


Give Me Hope in the Darkness

by RogueTwelve



Series: Ever the Same [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Marriage Counseling, Postpartum Depression, difficult subject matter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26128690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueTwelve/pseuds/RogueTwelve
Summary: They'd known that PPD was a distinct possibility, but considering the circumstances surrounding their daughter's birth, they'd pushed the thought aside. There were more important things at the forefront of their minds.Until one day they couldn't ignore it any longer.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: Ever the Same [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724509
Comments: 32
Kudos: 133





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"So give me hope in the darkness, that I will see the light_  
>  _'Cause oh it gave me such a fright_  
>  _But I will hold on with all of my might_  
>  _Just promise me we'll be alright"_  
>  \- 'Ghosts That We Knew' - Mumford & Sons
> 
> A little disclaimer - I never intended to write this story. It was something that I knew happened between Clarke and Bellamy that coloured some of the events later in their lives, but it was always meant to only (at most) get a vague mention. But life has really been a kick in the teeth lately and I tend to write my feelings - and so the words just found their way onto paper. All I can say is take care of yourselves. This story takes a dive into the absolute lowest point in Bellamy and Clarke's marriage and doesn't pull punches. It was also meant to be posted all in one go so that there would be some relief at the end, but it's currently approaching 20000 words with still a long way to go and was too uncomfortable for one sitting for a few reasons. So I made the difficult choice to split it up. 
> 
> On the bright side, you already have 'We Live Through Scars' that takes place after this, so you know that nothing too horrible will happen 💜
> 
> For a content warning, see the end of the chapter (I made the warning for this one about the whole fic, so if you don't want spoilers, skip it.).

The bed dipped gently at his side, the covers rustling against his skin. A few quiet whimpers drifted to his ears, soon transforming into a muted suckling sound.

He groaned, blinking in the incredibly dim pre-dawn light. “I didn’t even hear the baby monitor,” his voice was raspy, his vocal cords having yet to wake up. Rolling onto his side, he could barely make out Clarke leaning back against the headboard, holding Serenity in one arm, a half empty bottle clutched in her other hand. He brought a hand to her flannel clad thigh, massaging into the muscle lightly.

“It was a couple of hours ago,” she responded flatly, her chin tucked down toward her chest.

That penetrated through his mental fog. He pushed himself up to sit beside her, instantly swept with concern. 

His eyes had adjusted a little better, so he scanned her over. Her hair was coming loose from a messy bun at the top of her head, and dark circles were deeply set beneath her unusually dull eyes. She looked absolutely exhausted - not to mention more than a little dejected.

“Clarke, you should have woke me up,” he chastised her quietly, reaching over to take the baby and the bottle from her hands.

She shouldered his arm away, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Don’t worry about it. You need your sleep. You have to be at the firehouse in a few hours.”

He reached over more insistently. Taking his daughter, he gave his wife a weary look before his eyes shifted down to the little girl in his arms. She was already nearly asleep, her bright blue eyes half-lidded, and a thin stream of milk dribbling down her chin. “We’ve talked about this. You need rest too. You can’t do it all.”

Clarke rubbed at her eyes absently, her shoulders slouching. “It’s fine. She’s just teething. She’ll be down soon. I can take her.”

He just shook his head. “Then it shouldn’t be a problem for me to deal with it. Get some sleep Princess.”

Clarke tried to give him an exasperated look, but the effect was lost when her head bobbed slightly before snapping back up.

He just raised an eyebrow, not needing to say anything.

Clarke groaned, sliding her legs beneath the covers. “Just this once,” she slurred.

He was fairly certain she was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

Standing up, he held Serenity close as he silently made his way across the upstairs landing to the nursery, trying to avoid any further disturbances. Even the slightest noise would have Clarke wide awake again. He’d never met anyone who was such a light sleeper, and motherhood had only made it worse.

He swore even the first hint of movement from the nursery always had her up and in the baby’s room, doing whatever she needed to do to try to console their daughter back to sleep before he’d even had a chance to stir.

It was great that she was an attentive mother, but it was coming at the price of her own health. Especially over the last week - since Serenity had started trying to cut her first tooth - he was sure that Clarke had never gotten more than an hour of sleep at a time. Even though she’d never complained, he could tell it was wearing on her. She’d seemed more absent as of late, not to mention defensive every time he’d tried to help. He was doing his best to give her space, hoping that if there was a more serious issue at play, she would talk to him. But it was hard - especially considering their history.

Putting the nearly empty bottle down on the change table, the first thing he did was shut off the baby monitor. He was giving Clarke the rest of the night off, whether she wanted it or not. He had to be up in a couple of hours at the most anyway.

Next he reswaddled his drowsy daughter, then brought her over to the chair in the corner, rocking her gently as she finished off her bottle. She didn’t quite make it before the tip slipped free from her tiny mouth, her tongue still lolling out adorably. Bellamy quickly popped a pacifier between her lips, afraid that she wouldn’t stay down if he didn’t. Then, he just held her, relaxing back in the chair. She radiated warmth, like a little space heater curled against his chest. He nuzzled his nose against her unruly chestnut locks until he’d nearly dozed off himself. Shaking himself back into being semi-awake, he placed the sleeping infant back into her crib. She barely even stirred.

Still only half conscious, he stumbled back to the rocking chair and settled in. He wasn’t chancing waking Clarke up by going back to bed. He might wake up feeling stiff in the morning, but it would be well worth it if Clarke was able to get a solid chunk of shuteye.

His nearby daughter’s quiet breathing formed a peaceful lull and before long, he’d drifted off once again.

***

Clarke woke up from a dead sleep, feeling groggy and more exhausted than when she’d closed her eyes. Pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead, she tried to ease away the dull throb echoing behind her temples. It didn’t really help.

The bed beside her was empty - the sheets having already gone cold. She had no idea what time it was and that thought sent guilt instantly swirling behind her sternum. Pushing to her feet, she threw on a fluffy robe and slippers, then headed for the main floor to take the baby off of Bellamy’s hands so he could focus on getting ready for work.

The sound of her daughter babbling happily on the first floor juxtaposed against the warmth of her husband’s deep voice had her pausing on the landing. Her stomach clenched.

It didn’t make any sense - the joyful noises should have lightened her mood if anything. But instead she just felt more shame swirling through her veins. 

They were happy without her.

She shook her head, trying to clear away the dark thoughts. Rearranging her features into a fragile fake smile, she made her way down the stairs. 

Bellamy was standing by the stove, spatula in hand, making faces at Serenity where she was sitting in her Bumbo chair on the counter beside him. He looked over at the sound of Clarke’s approach, concern flickering in his eyes for a moment before he broadened his grin again. “‘Morning.” He leaned in and kissed the side of her head. “I made French toast. It should be ready in a minute.”

She brushed past him, ducking her head to try to cover her grimace. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. Reaching over, she grabbed her daughter under the arms and hoisted her up.

Bellamy frowned, leaning closer to the stove to let her by. “Sorry for what?”

Her jaw tightened. She looked away, feeling too tired to school her expression. “I can get a bottle ready,” she deflected, trying to avoid his question.

He wrapped a hand around her elbow, his grip gentle, but strong enough to hold her in place. “She’s already eaten, Clarke.”

That made her feel even worse.

She tugged her arm, wanting to go to the living room to just sit down for a minute, but he held firm.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You were only asleep for maybe 3 hours.”

She forced herself to take a deep breath. He didn’t understand, but that wasn’t his fault. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She was so tired she didn’t even realize that she’d apologized again.

He looked at her for a long moment, then let go. “Have a seat at the table. I’ll bring your breakfast to you.” The skin around his eyes had tightened, the light mood she’d walked in on having evaporated.

Eager to get away, she sidled past him once again and went into the adjacent dining area, Serenity still clutched in one arm. She deliberately sat with her back to the kitchen, her shoulders tight. Her daughter stared up at her with wide eyes. Clarke tried to bounce her for a moment, wanting to assure the little girl that everything was all right, but she just didn’t have the energy. She slouched back in her chair. 

Beau wandered over and placed his big fluffy head in her lap. Sighing internally, she absently scratched him behind the ears. 

Within 5 minutes, Bellamy had joined her, a plate in each hand. He set them on the table without comment, then sat down beside her. Clarke used her free hand to pick up the fork he’d provided, then used it’s edge to start cutting her meal into bite sized pieces.

Bellamy paused what he was doing. “I can take her,” he offered quietly, putting his own utensils down.

“It’s fine,” she muttered in response. She hitched her daughter a little higher, and pressed a quick kiss into her mess of chestnut hair.

Bellamy watched her for a moment longer before returning to his own food.

When Clarke had finished her task, she began pushing the pieces around her plate, nudging them through the syrup they’d been drenched in. As usual, she wasn’t hungry. About three bites was all her stomach was willing to hold and even that felt like she was pushing it. 

After taking a long sip of coffee, Bellamy placed his mug back on the table, his fingers lingering on the handle. “I’m working a shorter shift today - should be home around 8 tonight.”

Clarke’s brow furrowed as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “What? Why?”

He didn’t meet her gaze. “This new guy on 3rd watch -Levitt- was looking for some extra shifts. And Clarke…” he paused there. 

She recognized the face he made when he was trying to choose his words carefully. Her jaw clenched as she ducked her chin, fiddling with the collar on Serenity’s sleeper where it wasn’t lying flat. 

“I’m concerned.” His tone was definitely guarded. He placed a hand on her knee underneath the table and her first instinct was to jerk away. She managed to tamp it down, teeth cutting into her lower lip instead. 

“I know you haven’t been sleeping… You look like you could use a break.”

She tensed, shifting the baby to rest in both of her arms and keeping her eyes locked on the sparkling blue orbs in front of her. Serenity cooed softly, her chubby little fingers tangling into the fabric of Clarke’s shirt. “I’m fine, Bell.”

His fingers tightened slightly. “Babe, I’m not trying to imply anything okay? I’m just trying to remind you that you can talk to me.”

She softened. He was a better husband than she deserved. Shifting a hand free, she slid it down, interlocking her fingers with his. “It’s just been a rough couple of weeks.” It was a partial truth. Things had been worse recently with Serenity’s sleep schedule all over the place and her daughter’s increased irritability from her teething pain. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. “I’ll lie down while she’s napping, okay?”

He kept studying her face, creases forming around his lips. “Promise me that you’ll reach out to someone if you’re feeling overwhelmed.”

“She’s just been fussy lately Bell. I’m pretty sure that O and Link have their hands full dealing with Bryce… they’ve only had him home for 2 weeks. They don’t need to deal with someone else’s cranky baby.”

He shook his head. “So call Harper or Rae. You don’t have to struggle alone Clarke.”

That stung. Because there was no question - motherhood _was_ a struggle for her. It had been since basically the day she’d gone to the doctor’s office and confirmed she was pregnant. And deep in her bones she knew - it shouldn’t be this hard.

The pressure on her hand increased and she snapped back to attention, not having even realized that she’d completely spaced out. Bellamy’s gaze was piercing as he stared at her, waiting for an answer to a question she hadn’t heard.

“I will,” she muttered, assuming that his side of the conversation would have followed the same vein.

His eyes widened briefly in surprise, before his shoulders relaxed. 

Standing up, he wedged himself behind her chair, leaning over to kiss Serenity on the top of the head before doing the same to her. He stayed there for a moment, nuzzling into her hair. “Thank you,” he breathed.

Clarke tried not to let her uneasiness at the fact that she didn’t know what she’d just promised show. Turning around in her seat, she leaned up, capturing his lips with hers. He eagerly reciprocated, his tongue running lightly along her lower lip.

“I love you,” he reminded her breathlessly as he pulled away.

“Love you too,” she responded a little bashfully. Even at her lowest, Bellamy still had the power to make her blush. 

He seemed reluctant, but eventually he backed up, turning to head for the front door, Beau following at his heels.

“I’ll see you two beautiful ladies tonight,” he called over his shoulder, just before the door slammed shut.

Clarke slumped back in her chair.

Serenity gurgled softly, her drool-coated fist going to her mouth. Clarke still didn’t move. She honestly wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Her headache was just as bad as it had been when she’d woken up, and it didn’t show any signs of abating. But her daughter was calm and that felt like an anomaly these days. She felt like she shouldn’t be wasting the opportunity - like she should be doing something productive.

She just didn’t have any energy.

Beau trotted back into the room, his tail wagging with cautious optimism.

She bit her tongue - it wasn’t just the human members of her family that she’d been neglecting.

She supposed they could go for a walk. Beau more than deserved it, and the fresh air might even do her some good.

After tidying up the kitchen, she got Serenity all bundled up before fastening her into her stroller, then suited herself up in her winter gear. Even for December, it was chillier than usual, so she was extra diligent in making sure her daughter was covered. Like always, the 8 month old just stared up at her mom with inquisitive eyes. Clarke sighed. As much as she loved the solitude of their house on most days, sometimes the silence could feel so isolating.

Looping Beau’s leash around her wrist, she got their small party out the door, then started them down the long gravel driveway. The wintry breeze sunk into her skin almost the second she’d left the house, the damp cold penetrating deep. Though she’d always enjoyed winters in Colorado, on the coast it certainly wasn’t her favorite time of year. She longed for the endless green that usually surrounded their sanctuary, or better yet, the blazing fire of the colorful leaves in autumn.

Instead, the trees were skeletal claws groping at the barren grey sky. She suppressed a shudder.

Maneuvering the stroller while the tires were stiff with cold was more work than she’d anticipated, especially in her exhausted state. But Beau was trotting along happily, sniffing at almost every bush, while Serenity continued to talk to herself, trying out different sounds - so she slogged forward.

A particularly cold gust sliced through the trees and she had to stop, clenching her eyes shut as they began to water. Serenity wailed, the peaceful spell broken. Clarke just stood there and stared for a long moment, her mind failing to grasp at what to do.

Beau nudged her in the back of the knee, and that seemed to get her thoughts back in motion. Making her way around to the front of the stroller, she squatted down - reaching in to give her daughter a reassuring pat. “It’s okay,” she tried to use her best soothing tone. More often than not, her voice just ended up falling flat.

Serenity blinked at her, red-faced - fat tears still rolling down her cheeks. Clarke wiped them away hurriedly, irrationally afraid that they might freeze. Distractedly, she dug around in the small diaper bag at the base of the stroller until she finally found a pacifier and plopped it into her daughter’s mouth.

The little girl continued to glare at Clarke for a couple of minutes until instinct kicked in and her chubby cheeks started to work.

Clarke let herself drop onto her butt, her head falling back until she was staring at the dreary sky. Her stomach felt tight and she had no idea why. Even the thought of just getting up seemed like an impossible task, her limbs like leaden weights.

Beau started snuffling around her ear, his whiskers tickling her neck. She swatted him away, but he came right back, refusing to relent in his efforts until she was back on her feet.

With a groan, she finally got up, the dog once again pushing at her legs until they were moving in the right direction. 

They were nearly back at the house when Serenity started to cry again - this time not because of the wind, but because she was probably hungry, or her gums hurt, or she was just tired of being in her stroller. Honestly Clarke didn’t know.

By the time she got her daughter out of her snowsuit, her quiet cries had turned into full on screeching. She brought the infant to her shoulder and prepared a bottle, trying to ignore the way it felt like there was a spike stabbing through her skull every time her daughter reached a new decibel level.

When it was ready, she made her way over to the sofa and brought the bottle to Serenity’s lips, praying it would work. The little girl almost instantly calmed. She let out a sigh of relief.

Letting her head fall back against the couch cushions, she let her mind wander. When her daughter was done, she’d put her down for a nap. She’d promised Bellamy she’d try to get some sleep at the same time, but there were things she needed to do first.

She’d forgotten to pump that morning. Her breasts were sore and achy and she needed to do something about it, no matter how much she hated using the mechanized contraption. She didn’t get a break whether she wanted one or not.

She should also check her phone and emails - at least pretend that she was somewhat functioning as a human being.

Serenity started to fuss, pushing at the bottle and wiping her messy face across the shoulder of Clarke’s shirt. She stood up robotically, and carried her up the stairs. Before putting her down, she gave the little girl a dropper of baby Tylenol. It had been a relatively calm morning, but she’d learned the hard way in the past week that that could turn on a dime.

Once she was in her crib, Serenity didn’t fight. She just blinked up at her mother with her wide blue eyes and once again, Clarke felt an inexplicable rush of shame. 

Serenity really was a relatively easy baby, especially considering the way that she’d started life. Clarke shouldn’t be struggling as much as she was.

Gently, she ran her fingers up and down Serenity’s tummy a few times. The little girl closed her eyes, her little fists clenching near her face. Clarke stayed a moment longer, then quietly backed out of the room.

Retrieving her phone from her bedroom, she checked her messages. She had her usual texts from Bellamy, checking up on her while he was bored between calls. Also a picture from Octavia showing her and Lincoln in bed, Marie sandwiched between them with a broad grin on her face, and baby Bryce curled up on his mother’s chest. It was an adorable family photo. Her heart tugged a little. She stared at it for probably longer than she should have before sending a simple smiling emoji in reply.

It took her a little over an hour to pump, tidy up the house, and respond to emails. She’d been letting those pile up for a while. Most of them were requisitions for commissioned work. It hurt having to say no. She wanted to contribute to her family, but she hadn’t been able to tap into her passion for over a year. She got through about five messages before it became too disheartening. If there was one tiny consolation, it was that eventually the emails would stop coming.

With nothing else really to do, she decided to at least try to fulfill her promise to her husband. Trudging back up the stairs, she climbed into bed, choosing to curl up on Bellamy’s side - his scent still heavy in his pillow. She stared up at the ceiling for an inordinate amount of time. Every so often, she would begin to drift off, only to snap back awake due to a tiny creak from the house settling, or Beau shifting on the bed beside her. Eventually she gave up.

Serenity was awake when Clarke went back into the nursery, just quietly mesmerized by the mobile suspended over the crib. Clarke picked her up, securing her into a sling across her chest then went down to her studio.

Serenity seemed content enough, so Clarke pulled out a sketch pad. Settling onto the small couch along one wall, she stared out at the crashing surf, hoping that for once, inspiration would come.

She’d never felt this disjointed in her life. Even after Wells’ death, she’d still been able to lose herself in her art. Even if it was a painful process, at least it was an outlet. Now it was as if there was some kind of disconnect between her mind and her hand. Or maybe it was all within her head. The images wouldn’t come. The usually free flowing movement of her arm was completely still. Part of her wanted to try to force it - make herself eke out some form of soulless still life just to try to break the spell. But deep down she knew that wouldn’t help.

A tiny hand smacked against her chest.

She blinked hard. Her knuckles were white around her pencil, and Serenity was once again red-faced and crying in front of her.

Slowly, she eased her grip while looking around. _How long had she been zoned out?_

The room had dimmed in the late afternoon light. Anxiety sunk its tiny claws into the back of her neck. She tried to push it down. She had to deal with her daughter’s needs before she could sink into a meltdown herself.

Tossing the notebook and pencil to the side, she stood up, bouncing slightly and trying to shush her baby. Heading to the kitchen, she grabbed a frozen pancake from the freezer and gave it to the little girl, hoping that the cool surface would be soothing against her gums, it seemed to do the trick for a couple of minutes, but then Serenity was right back to thrashing angrily, throwing the makeshift ice pack to the floor. Clarke picked it up and tossed it in the trash, trying to remain calm. She kept bouncing, but Serenity just continued to grow more irate.

Clarke brought her up to the nursery and changed her diaper, glancing all the while at the little note she used to keep track of how often she gave the infant pain relief. It was too soon for another dose. She bit her lip in frustration.

In the back of her mind, a nagging voice that sounded strangely like her husband reminded her that she should call one of her friends. But she couldn’t do it. It was just a crying baby. _Her_ crying baby. She should be able to handle it on her own.

Running her hand through her hair with her shoulders tense, she scanned the room. She wasn’t sure what to do.

It was getting close to dinner time, so she could try to feed her again. Then hopefully the girl would go back to sleep until she could have more medicine. Or Bellamy would be home. There was always wishful thinking.

Beau was back to pressing his heavy weight against her legs. She tried pushing him away, but he came right back, his huge chocolate eyes staring up at her.

She skirted around him, hurrying back to the kitchen. Preparing a bottle was much harder this time around. Her hands were shaking. She wasn’t sure when that had started. 

Taking the small plastic container, she made for the stairs once again, then tried to get comfortable in the rocking chair. Serenity refused the bottle. No matter what Clarke tried, she kept turning her head, her small fists lashing out wildly until Clarke was crying too.

Defeated, she stood up, absentmindedly placing the still mostly full bottle onto the edge of the change table and just putting the screaming baby into her crib. Nothing she was doing was helping and she just felt so useless. Serenity seemed to shriek louder and she couldn’t handle it. Clutching her pounding head between her palms, she once again made eye contact with Beau. His worried gaze felt accusatory. Biting her lip, she told him to stay, then exited the room, shutting the door and leaning back against the heavy wood.

The added barrier did little to drown out her daughter’s betrayed howls.

She couldn’t handle it anymore.

It was all too much.

She _couldn’t_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Content warning** \- this fic contains some mild child endangerment, and a subconscious suicide attempt (Clarke doesn't actually intend to harm herself, but her actions still could have easily caused her death). It's also a fairly deep dive into Clarke's depression. Clarke and Bellamy attend marriage counseling and their arguments get ugly at times. Also contains vague references to Clarke and Bellamy's captivity including Clarke's rape. Bellamy has a PTSD flashback about what happened.
> 
> I promise the next chapter will be up next week! Thank you as always for being such awesome readers. Let me know your thoughts 💜


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Content Warnings, see the end of the first chapter

Bellamy was relieved to be headed home early. 

It wasn’t like they couldn’t use the money - their mortgage was always on his mind and having a kid - especially a preemie - was _expensive_. 

But he was fucking worried. 

That wasn’t new. It was ingrained into his personality to worry about his family to the point of being overbearing. And with everything that had happened over the past year, his protective nature seemed to have only intensified. That said, he could usually keep it under control, tempering his anxiety when it wasn’t actually helping anyone.

But the way Clarke had been acting that morning…

He’d nearly not gone into work at all. It was only the promise of being home by that evening that had convinced him he could walk out the door. 

Pulling up the long driveway, the house was its usual picture of peaceful solitude - but that didn’t last. 

He could hear the muted sound of Serenity crying the moment he stepped out of his vehicle and knew immediately that something was wrong. The uneasiness he’d been feeling all day magnified tenfold. 

Hurrying up the front steps, he didn’t even pause to take off his shoes as he raced up the stairs to the second floor. Seeing the nursery door shut and no sign of his wife sent dread clawing outward from his spine.

“Clarke?” He called out as loud as he could, hoping he would be heard over his daughter’s screams. He hoped she was with Serenity, but if she wasn’t he couldn’t prioritize looking for her.

He went directly to the baby’s room, his feet absolutely flying beneath him.

By the time he swung the door open, anxiety was nearly strangling him, not knowing what he was going to find.

Beau was standing on his hind legs with his front paws resting on the edge of the crib. When Bellamy had opened the door, the dog looked over and whined sharply, his brown eyes huge. He could just barely see Serenity through the bars. She was thrashing on her back with her face beet red and her voice going hoarse as if she’d been crying constantly for hours.

He was there in an instant, picking her up and cradling her to his chest. She screeched louder, jerking away from the cold of his jacket. He instantly put her back down, scrambling to take it off. “You’re right, I’m sorry… I’m sorry,” he tried to soothe.

She was inconsolable. 

The next time he took her into his arms, her tiny hands immediately fisted into his t-shirt, holding tight as if she were terrified that she would be left alone again. He brought her head toward his shoulder, stroking her soft hair as she continued to shriek. He then looked around the room a little frantically, unsure of what to do. His eyes caught on a nearly full bottle, discarded on the edge of the change table. Walking over, he found the post-it note where they kept track of how often they’d given the little girl Tylenol. The last entry from Clarke had been more than 6 hours earlier. He didn’t know what that meant in terms of how long his daughter had been left like this.

“ _Clarke!_ ” He called again desperately, still receiving no response.

Somehow he managed to pick up the small syringe with his shaking hand, and pull the medicine up, only spilling a little bit. When he brought the little plastic cylinder to the baby’s mouth, Serenity turned her head away resolutely, too incensed to cooperate.

He took a deep breath. She’d never been difficult to give medication to before. “Come on Baby Girl - this will help you feel better I promise,” he muttered against the crown of her head.

When he tried again she relented, her blue eyes still shining with betrayal. The moment she was done swallowing, she went right back to bawling loudly. Bellamy dropped the syringe, his hand rubbing over her heaving back as he continued to shush her quietly. 

Trying to keep himself from breaking down into a panic, he began to set himself tasks that he could easily get through - starting by changing his daughter out of her soiled diaper and tear-soaked outfit.

It wasn’t easy - she fought him every step of the way, but he somehow managed to keep himself relatively calm. Midway through - when he was starting to get frustrated as she squirmed too much to get the snaps down the front of her fresh pajamas done up - he took a break. Using one hand to keep Serenity secure on the change table, he pulled out his phone with the other.

The first thing that he confirmed was that Clarke hadn’t left him any sort of message. His heart sank.

Next he flipped to his contacts, but then paused. He knew he couldn’t deal with this alone, but Clarke had been right that morning - he couldn’t bother his sister and brother-in-law. They had their own newborn to deal with.

His eyes zeroed in on Kane’s name and he didn’t hesitate, bringing his phone to his ear.

The General answered before the second ring. “ _Bellamy?_ ”

He took a shuddering breath. “I need help.” He hadn’t even realized that he was also crying until he heard his own voice crack.

Marcus’ response was swift. “ _I’m on my way._ ”

He lowered the phone and just stared at it for a moment before typing out a hurried message to his wife.

**_Where are you?!_ **

That was all he could manage. His emotions were warring against each other - shifting from anger to worry to regret so quickly he was making himself dizzy.

Serenity was getting slightly quieter, tiring herself out. He finished dressing her, then brought her back to his shoulder, taking her to the kitchen. If the state of the bottle he’d seen was any indication, she was hungry - not to mention probably dehydrated - and that couldn’t be helping the situation.

He didn’t even think about putting his daughter down as he prepared a new bottle one handed, fetching milk from the freezer and warming it in the sink. She was still clinging to him as if she’d never let go, each tiny whimper tearing another hole in his heart. 

Turning to get a fresh bottle out of the cabinet, he nearly tripped. Beau was still staying pressed as closely to them as he possibly could. Part of Bellamy wished he’d back down and try to find Clarke instead. But he knew that was likely asking too much. The poor animal was probably just as bewildered as he was.

Once Bellamy managed to get the lid on properly, he nearly sighed with relief when Serenity took it without putting up much of a fuss. He watched for a moment as her little red cheeks puffed out, fat tears still clinging to her eyelashes as she sucked greedily. Resting his forehead against hers, he closed his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep breath.

His daughter was calming down.

He _needed_ to find Clarke.

At the same time, he was so afraid of what state she’d be in when he finally found her, he felt almost rooted to the spot. Dread was like a heavy weight, holding down each foot. He wanted to wait for Kane. 

But if she needed help and he’d just been standing there…

With a shuddering breath, he started his search.

Every room in the house was empty. The bedrooms, her studio… he even checked the damn closets - twice. With each passing moment, his grip on his daughter got a little tighter, whatever hope he’d had dwindling quickly.

He checked the garage. He’d insisted that she retrieve her car from her father’s house after Serenity was born in case she ever needed to get somewhere in an emergency. The vehicle was still sitting there untouched.

That was it. He was lost. He didn’t have a fucking clue where she was and he felt helpless.

Sitting down heavily on the couch, he felt his mind go blank.

Serenity squirmed in the crook of his elbow, taking a quivering breath. On autopilot, he took her nearly empty bottle away and placed it on the coffee table, before shifting her into a more comfortable position. Her eyelids drooped lazily as she nuzzled into the front of his t-shirt, her fists never leaving their tightly clenched position in the worn fabric. She was still crying, but it was now little more than the occasional sniffle, her tiny body completely exhausted from her ordeal.

All he could do was hold her, trying to draw the strength to not completely break down himself. He did his best to erect some sort of emotional barrier, keeping himself numb until he had a true reason not to be. Everything felt wrong.

He had to hold it together.

He _had_ to.

The front door opened.

His head whipped around automatically, hoping to see moonlight glinting off of golden blonde curls.

Of course it wasn’t her.

Fresh tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, searing a path down his cheeks.

Kane walked in, quickly assessing the scene in front of him. His eyes tightened as soon as he took in the emotional state of his foster son. He didn’t waste any time, already asking questions while he was still taking off his jacket. “Bellamy, what’s going on?” His eyes darted around the room for a moment before coming back. “Where’s Clarke?”

Bellamy shifted to free a hand, then rubbed it roughly across his face. “I don’t know.” He shook his head, his throat burning. “God - I have no idea.”

Marcus’ brow furrowed as he came around the sofa to squat in front of his former charge. “What do you mean?”

Bellamy felt his face crumple. He ducked his head, looking down at his sleeping daughter. He felt like he was about 2 seconds away from completely shattering. “I got home from work and she wasn’t here.”

Alarm flashed through the older man’s eyes. “Did she leave a note? Have you contacted any of her friends?”

A bitter laugh escaped Bellamy’s lips as he shook his head dejectedly. “None of our friends would even _think_ about letting her leave an 8 month old baby at home alone.” His gut twisted even more. Neither would Clarke - not if she’d been in her right mind.

Kane sat down heavily. Bellamy could almost see the thoughts whipping through the older man’s head at a hundred miles an hour. With his gaze still focused on some arbitrary point on the far wall, Marcus spoke again - his voice deep and commanding. “Son, I think you need to contact the police.”

Bellamy stiffened instantly. Unconsciously, his head started to swivel back and forth.

Marcus placed a hand on his knee. “There’s no minimum waiting period to report a missing person.”

His arms shifted as if he were trying to shield Serenity on some level, his shoulders twisting her away from her grandfather. “Jesus, I _can’t_ do that. If the media were to find out-” His throat clicked shut, cutting off his words. His breathing rate started to increase involuntarily as panic began to set in. “What if they take Serenity away? What if they try to take my little girl?”

The lines on Kane’s face deepened. “That isn’t going to happen Bellamy. And even if it did - the two of you have family. You have supports in place. She wouldn’t go into the system - she’d be placed with one of us until you got custody back.”

Bellamy still couldn’t even begin to accept what he was saying. It felt like his world was falling apart faster than he could hope to catch the pieces. “No,” the single word was whispered, a last bit of defiance before he knew he’d succumb to the inevitable.

Kane ducked into his field of view, locking eyes with him - his expression firm. “Bellamy I know how hard this is. You’re in an impossible position. But you _need_ to find Clarke and the faster you do it, the more likely that there will be a positive outcome. We have no idea what happened. The more eyes you have looking for her the better. We can deal with any consequences that result from the search in due time.”

“I…” Bellamy trailed off. He knew Kane was right. That didn’t make it easy.

Using one hand, he cradled Serenity’s head up and pressed his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent. The little girl barely stirred, her tiny lips moving for a moment before she settled once again. The poor thing was oblivious to what was going on and Bellamy hated that she was probably about to suffer more than she already had.

Marcus stood up and headed toward the stairs.

Bellamy blinked. “Where are you going?” He asked, his mind feeling muddled.

Kane paused, his features grim. “I’m packing Serena a bag. I can take care of her - just until all of this is sorted out.”

“ _No_.” This time there was a lot more fuel behind his protest. He was already struggling to hold things together. Without the reassuring presence of his daughter, he felt like he’d be a ship without an anchor. “You can’t… I need-“

The General leveled him with a look. “You’re not going to focus while she’s here. Not on Clarke, but not on _her_ either. She deserves better than that. I know that you know that, Bellamy.”

He squeezed his eyes closed, unable to deny the words. “You’ve never taken care of a baby before. You don’t know how-"

Kane resumed his course. “I can figure it out. And I can always turn to Abby or Octavia for advice if I need it.”

Bellamy stood up, stumbling behind the older man. “No - don’t bother O with this. She-“

Kane had reached the nursery, and was starting to pull little outfits out of the dresser. “Octavia will be involved whether you want her to be or not. You’re her family Bellamy. _Clarke_ is her family. Let us be here for you.”

His head bowed forward, defeated. Transferring Serenity over so that he could hold her secure with only one arm, he relented, squatting down to riffle through her diaper bag to make sure it was fully stocked.

He _hated_ Clarke in that moment - hated her for what she was doing to their family. He knew that the anger was unfair and misplaced, but it lodged in his chest just the same, rooting deep and spreading like poison through his veins. 

Kane closed the small bag he was holding. “This is temporary Bellamy. Try to keep in mind that it isn’t anyone’s fault,” his mentor reminded him, as if he’d been reading his mind.

The younger man stood up stiffly without meeting Kane’s eyes. “I’ll go pack up some formula and put whatever milk we have in a cooler,” he muttered, turning his back and heading back down the stairs.

As soon as he’d crossed the threshold into the kitchen, his shoulders started to shake. He packed up everything he’d intended to, then just stood in the corner, clutching his daughter while crying as silently as he could.

Eventually, the soft touch of a hand on his shoulder caused him to jump. Kane was behind him, his face solemn as he gently pried his granddaughter free. Digging into his pocket, he slid his keys onto the counter. “We’ll trade vehicles,” he explained. “This way we don’t have to worry about transferring the car seat.”

That was all he said - the time for empty platitudes was over.

Bellamy no longer had the energy to answer. He just followed Marcus outside, making sure everything was in the car, and ensuring that Serenity was securely buckled in to her carrier. When that was done, his mind blanked out again. He didn’t know what to do.

Kane led him a few steps back then stopped, reaching out to firmly grip his forearm.

“What if she’s dead?” The words he’d banned from entering his head suddenly came tumbling out of his lips before he could stop them.

Kane’s expression finally wavered, moisture collecting in the corners of his eyes before he could blink it back. “Don’t even think that. Not yet.”

He pulled his foster son into a fierce hug, clutching him close and pressing a firm kiss to the side of his head. “I’ll be in touch,” he assured him, then got into the car.

Bellamy watched until he couldn’t see the red glare from the taillights anymore, feeling like a piece of his heart was being ripped away with them.

He dragged his feet as he made his way back to the empty house. He felt defeated already, and he hadn’t even started his search - not really.

His phone was still sitting on the coffee table where he’d left it earlier, its screen a black void. He glared at it as if that would somehow make a difference.

Calling the police was the absolute last thing that he wanted to do. He had little question that the media would somehow get ahold of the story eventually. The last time that had happened, it had nearly destroyed them. He felt like making that decision was tempting fate and could only make things worse.

But Kane had a point - he needed to have more people searching for Clarke and he was wasting time.

With a heavy sigh he sat back down on the edge of the sofa. He searched for the number he needed then brought the phone to his ear, using his other hand to rub at his eyes.

“ _You’ve reached Virginia State Police Missing Persons - how can I assist you?”_

“I…” He stopped there, his throat closing up, the bridge of his nose burning.

 _“Sir?”_ The woman on the other end of the line prompted when he’d been silent for over a minute.

“It’s-” Again he couldn’t go on. He felt like he literally needed to rip each word free from his rebelling chest. “My wife,” he finally managed to stammer. “I don’t know where my wife is.”

The woman once again waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she let out an annoyed sigh. _“Sir, I’m going to need more than that to go on.”_

Beau barked once sharply from the kitchen, causing Bellamy to start and then curse under his breath. Digging his fingers into his temple, he made himself say more. “I got home from work and she wasn’t here.”

 _“Right,”_ The woman sounded like she was starting to lose her patience. “ _Mr.-?”_

“Blake,” Bellamy grudgingly provided.

“ _Mr. Blake,”_ she continued. “ _I need to know what makes you think that she’s actually missing. She could have just gone to the store or to one of her friends’ houses and forgotten to leave a note.”_

Bellamy gritted his teeth. Did this woman think he was an idiot? 

Beau barked again, probably needing to go outside. Bellamy’s eyes darted over briefly before sliding back to the wood grain at his feet. 

If he gave her an answer, it would be damning. Clarke could be charged with negligence. But if he wanted to be taken seriously, he couldn’t lie.

“We have a-"

Beau had started to bark incessantly and scratch at the back door. Bellamy doubted that the woman he was talking to could even hear him over the din. With an annoyed frown he got up, intending to let the dog out so that he could finish the call.

He was so distracted, he almost didn’t see it.

With the door handle still half depressed, his eyes caught on the barest glint of gold shining in the starlight, at the far end of the beach. The labradoodle’s bark turned into a high whine. Bellamy’s heart stopped.

Without a conscious thought, his thumb went to the end call button. Then he was haphazardly shoving the phone into his pocket and sprinting across the sand.

Clarke was sitting at the water's edge, her sock-laden feet and most of the lower part of her legs submerged in the near-freezing surf. When he skidded to her side, she didn’t move - still staring out toward the horizon through glazed over, half-lidded eyes.

He placed both hands on her cheeks. Her skin was like ice. “Clarke.” Her name came out harsh.

Her eyes blinked slowly, a tiny wrinkle appearing between her brows. “Bell’my?” She slurred.

He couldn’t do anything but stare for a moment.

“Whattr’you doin’?” Her words were garbled, spoken through half frozen lips. She’d probably been out there for hours.

He was speechless. He had to force himself to quell his anger, unceremoniously picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder before trudging back toward the house.

She struggled feebly, pushing against his back a couple of times with clumsy hands. “No. I don’t wanna-"

He ignored her protests.

He could feel the cold of her body through his T-shirt and yet she wasn’t shivering. That was worrying to say the least. Not to mention her apparent altered state of consciousness. 

She was obviously hypothermic, but this was nothing like the time that she’d accidentally lost track of time in the mountains - this was an emergency. 

At a jog, he took her all the way up to the second floor where he dumped her onto their bed. Without delay, he began stripping her out of her wet clothes. Fear flashed through her eyes and he automatically stopped, despite how much his mind was telling him he couldn't slow down. Gripping her chin in one hand he turned her face toward him. “Clarke, look at me.”

Slowly her eyes found their way to his. 

“It’s Bellamy.” He kept his voice as steady as he could. “I’m not going to hurt you. But I need to get you out of these.” There wasn’t any comprehension in her face, but she didn’t panic as he peeled her pants the rest of the way down her legs.

When she was completely naked, he slipped into the en suite to grab a towel and dig out some of the instant heat packs they kept for winter hiking trips in Colorado. At the last moment he grabbed their thermometer from the medicine cabinet as well. Part of him didn’t want to know just how bad it was, but he still needed to know if he should be immediately calling an ambulance.

Back in the bedroom, he found her slumped against the headboard, making no attempt to conserve what little body heat she had. Hurriedly, he dried her legs, then pulled back the blankets far enough that he could slide her under.

Her eyes blinked slowly a few times. “So… tired…” she mumbled.

His ire faded the tiniest amount. “I know,” he muttered back, cracking the heat packs and placing them around her neck and under her arms.

She groaned, trying to bat them away. Catching her hands, he barely suppressed a grunt of frustration. “Dammit Clarke, I’m trying to help you.”

Her head thrashed back and forth a few times. “No,” she paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing. “There’s…” she blinked again, confusion heavy on her face. “Something I-” she trailed off once more.

Seizing the opportunity, he slipped the thermometer between her parted lips and waited, trying to keep it steady as she continued to fidget. The small device seemed to take forever to come to a consensus, as if it couldn’t believe the answer. Finally it beeped.

He read the small digital display and cursed. 85.2°F - he was surprised she was still conscious.

He needed to find more blankets. Sparing her one more worried glance, he made a quick trip down to the main floor to gather the downy throw off of the back of the couch.

Beau yelped, and he realized he’d accidentally left the poor dog outside. He quickly opened the door for him, and the labradoodle raced past, bounding straight to the upper floor without a second thought. Bellamy followed behind.

Clarke had passed out by the time he got back to the room. Beau didn’t waste any time in curling up over her feet, staring up at Bellamy with sad eyes.

A big part of him wanted to crawl onto the bed with them, but his resentment was winning out. Instead, he watched the slow rise and fall of his wife’s chest long enough to assure himself that she wasn’t in imminent danger. Then he fished his phone back out.

There were so many emotions coursing through his body that he felt like his chest was liable to cave in. He couldn’t deal with it. He knew it was too much.

For the first time in _years_ he was craving the soothing numbness brought on by too much whiskey. And that scared him.

Scrolling through his contacts once again, he found his therapist’s personal number and typed out a simple message.

**_911_ **

It was short, but Gabriel would know exactly what it meant. It was the code they’d agreed upon years ago for Bellamy to use in case of an emergency - if he felt like he was out of control and he posed a probable threat to himself or someone else. In the last 7 years, he had never even been tempted to use it - but in that moment he didn’t know what else to do.

He wondered if he’d even get a response. It was pretty late and he wouldn’t blame the other man for not checking his messages.

But, sure enough, within 5 minutes his phone was vibrating in his palm.

Sparing one final glance at Clarke’s sleeping form, he left the room - shutting the door behind him before pressing his back against the adjacent wall and sliding down until his butt hit the hardwood.

_“Bellamy? What’s going on? Are you alright?”_

His free hand clenched into a fist that he then pressed into his forehead. He felt like screaming. Instead he forced out a harsh response. “I came home to my daughter screaming bloody murder and my wife nowhere to be found. _No I’m not fucking okay._ ”

His words were met with silence for a long moment. When Gabriel spoke again, his words were laced with extreme caution. “ _Bellamy - Where are Serenity and Clarke?_ ”

He clenched his jaw, a frustrated groan escaping from deep in his throat. “Serena’s with Kane - he took her a while ago. Clarke-“ His throat clicked shut. He tried again, forcing the air from his lungs “Clarke’s-”

He still couldn’t say it. Aggravated, he bounced the back of his head off of the wall. It smarted for a second, but it was enough to knock some sense into him. “I found her half in the water… like she was just waiting for-”

 _“In the water?... As in the ocean?”_ He heard something tumble in the background. _“Bellamy have you called an ambulance?”_

“She’s alive. She’s… She was conscious when I found her.”

“ _So you took her to the hospital…”_ his therapist proded, his tone betraying the fact that he already knew that that wasn’t the case.

Bellamy’s stomach gave another uncomfortable lurch. His silence was more than enough of an answer.

 _“If she was in the water Bellamy… it’s near freezing out. She’s probably hypothermic.”_ He could tell that Gabriel was doing his level best to keep his voice calm, explaining things rationally.

He didn’t need to be treated with kid gloves. “Not ‘probably’,” Bellamy admitted flatly.

Gabriel was silent once again, most likely trying to come up with a new approach to get him to see sense. _“If she gets sick again- Bellamy another bout of pneumonia could kill her.”_

He shook his head, a bitter tear slipping free, tracing a path down his cheek until it pooled at the corner of his mouth. “You think I don’t know that?! But what the fuck am I supposed to do? If I take her in, they’re just going to commit her again Gabriel. _We have an eight month old._ Serenity needs her mom.”

_“You’re right. She needs her mom. So don’t let her die because you’re too stubborn and scared to do the right thing.”_

Bellamy ground his teeth. “I’ve got it handled. If she gets worse I’ll bring her in. I swear.”

Gabriel didn’t attempt to hide the aggravated noise that escaped past his lips. _“I don’t know why you bothered to contact me if you were just going to shoot down anything I say_.”

Rolling his eyes, Bellamy gripped the phone tighter. “You’re not an idiot. We both know that this was never about how Clarke is doing physically.”

“ _We’ve talked about this. I’m not Clarke’s therapist. I can’t-“_

“Clarke hasn’t seen her therapist in months.” Bellamy cut the other man off harshly. He’d been so damn hopeful when she’d agreed to make an appointment that morning. He realized now that the vacant look in her eyes should have been more than telling. He felt so stupid.

Gabriel’s response snapped him back to the present. _“Okay. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t magically help someone that I’ve never even met.”_

Bellamy squeezed his eyes closed. “I’m at my wits end here. _Please_.”

_“I gave you my advice Bellamy. She needs to go to a hospital. You know that she’d be given a psych eval while she was there, and honestly being put into an inpatient program would probably do some good. It helped last time.”_

“You know it’s not as simple as that.”

Gabriel seemed to contemplate his words for a moment. _“You’re worried that CPS will get involved,”_ he mused, understanding starting to soften his voice.

Bellamy’s lungs seized. “They’d have every right to. She left our infant daughter in a house alone for god knows how long. This could have turned out so much worse.” Every muscle in his body seemed to be pulling tight in agitation. “You know me Gabriel - you _know_ I would never let this happen again. But some soulless bureaucrat isn’t going to see that, even without any interference. And once this gets out there-"

 _“The media would have another field day,”_ Gabriel finished for him. _“There’s no question the public would turn on Clarke like they did before. The two of you wouldn’t be given a fair shot.”_

Bellamy let out a long slow exhale — he was finally getting it.

_“There’s no quick fix for this.”_

He pursed his lips. “I know that.”

Gabriel sighed. Bellamy could hear the faint tapping of his pen bouncing off of a notepad as he contemplated some options.

_“I could pull some strings - get the two of you into a couples’ retreat that a friend of mine runs for a 3 day program.”_

Bellamy felt his eyes widen as a fresh surge of irritation clawed up his spine. “Are you kidding me right now? My wife is struggling with postpartum depression, she could have killed herself tonight - And your best suggestion is marriage counseling?!”

“ _Bellamy-”_

He didn’t want to hear it. “Un-fucking-believable.”

Gabriel’s tone had turned stern. “ _Listen to me. The two of you aren’t communicating. You told me_ months _ago that you were concerned about the way that she was withdrawing and yet you still allowed things to get this far. Clarke needs a wake up call to see how much this is affecting your family. Hopefully it’ll be the push she needs to seek treatment. And_ you _need this too. Don’t try to tell me that you’re not feeling self destructive right now. And you’re angry with Clarke. I’m not saying that that isn’t valid, but it’s also something that you need to address. And I_ know _you’re not going to do that on your own.”_

Bellamy opened his mouth but no sound came out.

 _“You_ both _have a lot of progress to make before things even start to get better. And if nothing else, you owe it to your daughter to at least work on it. If you just keep ignoring what’s going on and hoping things will somehow resolve themselves on their own, then mark my words, someone is going to end up dead. And if it’s Clarke, or -god forbid- Serenity, I know you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself.”_

He was still speechless, the hard truths like a sharp knife flaying his skin to expose the raw nerve endings underneath.

Gabriel allowed him a few minutes to process before continuing. _“Obviously marriage counseling isn’t some kind of miracle solution that will fix all of your problems. But it’s an intensive program where you’ll get through more together in a couple of days than you would in months of individual therapy.”_ He seemed to hesitate there. _“And… Bellamy - if you don’t agree to this I’m…”_ He let out a heavy sigh. _“I’m going to contact emergency services.”_

Bellamy’s eyes squeezed so tightly he could feel his forehead crease.

_“In your first session I told you that everything we talk about is confidential unless there’s a credible threat of harm to anyone involved. We’ve crossed that line.”_

He’d been backed into a corner with no further options of escape.

He tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. “When?” he rasped out, hoping that the therapist would understand his question.

“ _Hopefully tomorrow. If not, then certainly the day after. Regardless, you should contact Kane or your sister - make sure that one of them is available to take care of Serenity for a few days.”_

“What? No-"

 _“You can’t take her with you.”_ His tone made it very clear that there was no room for argument. _“You have a decision to make - either she stays with family for a few days, or you risk the possibility that she could be taken away for a lot longer. But the choice is yours.”_

Gasping in a watery breath, he pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “I hate this.”

 _“I know you do,”_ Gabriel’s voice had finally started to turn sympathetic. “ _So, what’s it going to be?”_

He forced himself to breathe deeply for a few minutes, firming up his resolve. “Do what you need to. I-” The words felt stuck. “I’ll call Kane.”

He could hear the faint clicking of keys in the background. “ _I’ll email you the details once everything is settled. Go be with Clarke. And make sure you keep your promise._ ”

He said his goodbye then hung up, just sitting there with his knees drawn up to his chest. It took him a while to compose himself, and even then he didn’t trust his ability to make another phone call. Instead, he texted Kane, letting him know that Clarke had been found and asking if he’d be willing to keep Serena for a few days while they worked through some things. 

His father figure was more than willing. His response let him know that he’d also take care of informing Octavia and arranging for Beau to be looked after, and that he’d come by the house the next day to pick up some more supplies for Serenity.

All things that hadn’t even crossed his mind.

His breath left him in a whoosh.

He scratched at the back of his neck, staring blankly at the opposite wall before realizing that he was stalling. As painful as it was, he needed to go back to Clarke and at least check on her. He’d probably left her alone for longer than he should have as it was.

With a groan, he pushed himself to his feet and dragged himself back to the bedroom.

Clarke had started to shiver violently in his absence. As awful as it was to watch, he reminded himself that it was actually a good thing - her body had warmed up enough to try to regulate its own temperature. He could help speed up the process - crawl under the blankets beside her and share his body heat.

He _should_.

He didn’t. 

Anger was still a tight leaden ball sitting heavily behind his sternum, preventing him from even considering that level of intimacy.

Instead, he found himself a spot on the opposite side of the mattress, his back pressed against the headboard, and waited for morning. Sleep wasn’t even a thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know angry Bellamy is a lot. He's overwhelmed and sleep deprived. The next chapter they'll start counseling and it's still going to be rough but they'll make progress.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts with your comments and kudos 💜


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For content warnings see the end of the first chapter

It ended up being the latest he’d ever seen Clarke sleep in. By the time it was nearing 10 o’clock and she still hadn’t stirred, he was edging past worry into mild panic, finally allowing himself to entertain the notion that he may have made the wrong decision.

He was halfway through typing out a text to Lincoln asking for advice - he still wanted to keep the circle of people who knew about what was going on as limited as possible - when Clarke took in a shuddering gasp. His thumb stilled.

A few minutes later her eyes blinked blurrily, trying to focus. Her forehead creased as she rolled her head on the pillow, her gaze meeting his. “What happened?” She rasped, slowly raising a shaking arm to press the heel of her hand to her forehead.

Bellamy stiffened.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied his change in posture. She looked like she was in pain as she pushed herself to sit up, her eyes darting around the room. “Where’s Serenity?” She questioned, a trickle of fear leaching into her voice.

He couldn’t stop himself from continuing to stare.

“Bellamy?” She prodded.

He bit at his lip for a moment longer before looking away. “Kane has her.”

“I don’t under-”

“Don’t Clarke.” He stood up, walking around the bed to pick up the thermometer from the nightstand. He wanted to check one more time for his peace of mind.

She took the device when he offered it, but just held it in her hand. “What the hell is going on?”

He could almost feel his eyes flash. “Just take your damn temperature.”

She must have seen something in his face, because she obediently slipped the metal tip between her lips without trying to argue again.

Tension was thick in the air as they waited. He wasn’t sure he even breathed.

The silence was broken by a faint beep. Bellamy leaned over to glance at the reading, his arms folded tightly. 95.1°F… still low. But at least she hadn’t swung over into feverish territory. Some of the air that had been trapped in his chest escaped in a steady stream through his nose.

Clarke discarded the thermometer carelessly before trying to push herself unsteadily to her feet. She only made it halfway before collapsing back to the mattress with a groan. “Could you maybe explain to me why I feel like I was hit by a train?” He turned away, unbelievably frustrated that she was acting as if nothing had happened.

“Bellamy, please. You’re obviously mad at me about something. I get that. But _please_ tell me why Serenity isn’t here.”

His shoulder blades retracted to the point that he half expected them to click together. “You’re seriously going to act like you didn’t just walk off into the ocean last night? Like you didn’t leave our daughter _alone_ for god knows how long? Like you didn’t even care enough to fucking tell someone?” He’d whirled back on her, his voice rising to a level that he’d never thought he’d use with her.

Her already pale skin went downright translucent. “...what?” Unmistakable tears welled in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over.

He froze. Maybe she honestly didn’t remember. Despite the rage simmering just beneath the surface of his skin, he felt himself soften slightly. It was uncomfortable and awful - like his heart wanted to beat out of his chest in anger, but he also wanted to pull her into his arms. His ribs seemed to forget how to expand.

“What do… I don’t…” Clarke was spluttering, her face staining a deep crimson.

He felt his own features start to crumple. It was all too much. But he knew that allowing himself to get emotional wasn’t going to help the situation. Sniffing harshly, he turned once again, heading for the closet. “Pack a bag. We’re going away for a few days. Marriage counseling.”

The bed creaked as she recoiled. “What? I don’t-”

“It isn’t optional Clarke.” God, he sounded cold.

Silence stretched as he pulled down a duffle bag, haphazardly throwing his clothes in with little regard.

The sheets rustled. She grabbed her robe from where it was hanging near his shoulder, then stormed past him, headed out the bedroom door. “I need to pump,” she muttered, her voice uneven. And then she was gone.

He dropped whatever he’d been holding, his eyes squeezing tightly closed. Raking his nails across his scalp he forced a deep inhale then slowly let it out. He repeated the process until bit by bit he started to feel more composed.

It only took him a few minutes to finish packing. With that task complete, he showered, trying to wake himself up, then headed down the stairs and started to robotically make breakfast.

Clarke came down about a half hour later, dropping her own bag by the front door before joining him, sitting at a stool with her eyes downcast. He glanced over. In the brighter lighting of the kitchen she looked even more haggard than she had upstairs - dark circles swallowing the space beneath her eyes, her skin sallow and stretched thin over her cheeks.

Bellamy slid a smoothie in front of her. Her nose instantly wrinkled, her lips parting slightly. Before she could say anything - he’d known she wouldn’t want to eat - he interjected. “Not today Clarke - _Please._ ”

With a grimace, she took the glass, swallowing a few mouthfuls with barely concealed difficulty. She eventually made it through about three quarters before putting the cup down with a dull thud.

He waited - expecting her to ask him more questions. 

She didn’t - simply standing up and heading for the door, shouldering her bag as she passed. 

By the time he’d let Beau out and made sure the house was properly locked up, she was already in Kane’s SUV. He found her huddling in the passenger seat, obviously teetering on the edge of falling back into fits of shivers.

Hurriedly, he started the engine and turned the heat on full, aiming the vents in her direction. She didn’t react.

Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, he let out a sigh. “Factoring in the traffic in town it’s probably going to be a couple hour’s drive.”

Still nothing.

His jaw tightened. After a couple of minutes, he put the vehicle in gear and started down the long driveway.

Having to drive through Virginia Beach was a welcome distraction. He allowed himself to get lost in focusing on navigating the busy streets. When they made it to the rural area outside of the city limits, things shifted.

The tension was thick between them. Bellamy kept his eyes fixed on the road, but he didn’t fail to notice that Clarke hadn’t even touched the radio dial. The fact that she wasn’t falling into her typical neurotic behaviors had his stomach rolling uneasily.

How had he let things get this far?

Clarke shifted, pressing her temple against the cool glass of her window. Bellamy allowed his eyes to drift over only for a second before snapping them back forward.

“Do you want a divorce?” her quiet question cut through the silence like an explosion, yet it lacked any inflection, her tone lifeless.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel to the point that his knuckles ached in objection. “No,” his protest was quick and firm. He ground his teeth together for a moment before elaborating. “God no Clarke. This wasn’t even my idea.”

He chanced a glance in her direction, but she still had her face turned away.

“I called Gabriel last night. I was desperate.” He swallowed thickly - he still was. “He gave me an ultimatum and- We have to do this. We don’t have a choice.”

He saw one of her eyebrows tick up in her reflection, the only indication that she was even actually listening.

She didn’t say anything for the rest of the drive, leaving Bellamy to continue to stew in his inner turmoil. Luckily, they hadn’t had much further to go.

To the unsuspecting eye, the facility looked like a quaint bed and breakfast tucked away in the forest. Bellamy double checked that the address that Gabriel had emailed him was correct, before putting the car in park and stepping out.

A tall, thin woman was waiting for them on the front porch, a mug of coffee pressed between her palms. She gave them a short wave as they made their way up the gravel pathway. “You must be the Blakes.”

Clarke hesitated in her tracks. Bellamy nearly ran into her before managing to pull up short. She spun around to face him, the whites of her eyes clearly visible as her pupils contracted in fear. “Bell, I don’t think I can do this - not today.” Her nostrils flared as she sucked in a breath.

Despite how upset he still was, his heart tugged. Reaching forward, he hooked one of her hands and gave it a quick squeeze. “Take a deep breath. You can sit in the front room and try to relax for a bit while I deal with the paperwork, okay?”

Her eyes seemed to search his face for a moment before she swallowed, looking down. Her hand dropped from his hold, reaching up to grip at her forearm instead, fingers digging into the fabric of her jacket.

He skirted around her, following the employee through the reception area to a desk tucked against the back wall.

The woman stopped shuffling through a stack of forms to look at him from under her mass of curls. “Welcome to Sanctum Mr. Blake.”

His chin twitched to the side in some semblance of a shake. “Call me Bellamy.”

She presented a hand to him, and he shook it. “Jade. I’ll be the one working with the two of you throughout your stay.”

He nodded, reorienting the papers she’d laid out so that he could look them over.

“How long have the two of you been married?” She asked kindly.

Bellamy’s pen stilled. His gaze slipped surreptitiously toward Clarke where she was standing by the front window, staring out into the woods beyond. “5 years last October.” He sounded a little wistful. The anniversary had passed relatively under the radar - they’d been too busy being new parents. His forehead creased with regret.

She handed him another sheet. “Gabriel mentioned that you’ve both experienced struggles with your mental health and therefore you’re familiar with the therapy process.”

He bristled, trying to stay concentrated on the emergency contact form he was filling out.

“He also implied that you have a tough shell and might be a little reluctant to open up.”

His teeth ground together, his grip tightening.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her eyebrow rise sardonically. “Seems like that assessment was a little on the money.”

He forced his shoulders down, exhaling in a heavy stream through his nose. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a really trying 24 hours.”

Her expression softened in sympathy. “I’ll bet. It’s not often that I take on clients on such short notice. But Gabriel is a good man and I trust his judgement - if he says that this will help then I’m confident that you’re in the right place.”

Pushing the waiver he’d just filled out toward her, he got started on the next.

“Normally I’d give you guys as much time as you need to get settled, but we’re already having a really late start to the day. Head upstairs and get some rest if you need to, but keep in mind that we have a lot of ground to cover. You’ll find me in my office at the back of the house when you’re ready.” She slid a key to him, then made her way over to Clarke while he was still finishing up.

The two women spoke briefly - just long enough for the barest introductions to be made - before Jade disappeared into another part of the building.

Bellamy palmed the key, turning back to look at his wife. “What do you need?”

She still had her arms crossed over her hollowed out chest. “We should put our things away and I should probably pump again… but I just want to get this over with.”

He accepted that, grabbing his things from the floor at his feet and leading her upstairs toward the room where they’d be staying.

While Clarke did what she needed to do, he went into the adjoining bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face. The fatigue from barely sleeping in the last 48 hours was obviously starting to take its toll, and he could really use a nap.

But Clarke was right. He didn’t want to drag the dread out any longer than he had to.

Within about 20 minutes, they made their way to the room that Jade had indicated. It was fairly spacious, the lighting warm and inviting. At its center, a large leather sofa sat across from the counsellor’s desk. As they entered, Jade looked up at them with a bright smile. Bellamy didn’t think that either one of them was mentally in a place to be able to return it.

They sat down on opposite ends of the couch. The distance between them could have been a solid steel barrier for as cold as it felt. 

Bellamy fidgeted with his hands, twisting his fingers and pressing into his nails. Everything about the situation felt wrong. He'd always had an emotional intimacy with Clarke that was deeper than most couples could even dream of - a byproduct of surviving horrors that most people would never even imagine. But they’d also always held a healthy respect for one another’s privacy. Bellamy couldn’t imagine Clarke witnessing some of the awful bare-bones moments he’d experienced in Gabriel’s office - it made him feel sick to his stomach.

And he knew Clarke felt the same way. There were things that she absolutely wouldn’t talk to him about, and that was okay.

The idea of going through therapy _together,_ where some of those private moments had the potential to be exposed, was unsettling.

Jade leaned back in her chair, her face relaxing until only the hint of a soft smile turned the corners of her lips. “You’ll have to excuse me - normally I come into these sessions a lot more prepared. My clients fill out forms in detail about where they think the problems in their relationship stem from. With the two of you, I’m kind of flying by the seat of my pants, which certainly won’t be easy, but I think if we work together, there will still be a lot of benefit.” She folded her hands, propping them over her stomach. “So - why don’t we start with something easy… how did the two of you meet?”

The cushion shifted as Clarke pulled her feet up, tucking them closer to her body as she looked away. Bellamy felt his eyes draw to her before they darted back down to his lap. He grimaced.

The story of their past had faded from the limelight to the point that anyone outside of her father’s circle and their own close friends had completely forgotten about it. The fact that Clarke had changed her last name when they’d married had helped to stop from jogging people’s memories. He didn’t relish the thought of letting yet another stranger into their lives… or even of just bringing the past back up.

“That’s not the innocuous question it would be with most couples,” he muttered after an extended silence.

Jade’s forehead wrinkled. She tapped the cap of her pen on her paper a few times slowly as she tried to come up with a new jumping off point. “Okay,” she eventually tried, the hesitation clear in her voice. “Clarke, off of the top of your head can you tell me the happiest moment you’ve had in your relationship?”

Bellamy tensed, legitimately having no idea what to expect.

Clarke sat still as a statue for so long that Bellamy honestly began to question whether she was going to answer. Then, out of nowhere she wiped at her eye hastily with a sniff. “God it sounds so pathetically corny, but it was on our honeymoon.” Her lips twitched briefly. “It was the first time that either of us had left the country after…” She trailed off biting her lip, then shook her head. “We’d both been stressed out. I knew you were picking up on how anxious I was and that you were so close to just calling the whole thing off, but we went anyway. And for once, it felt like we were free. Nobody knew who we were. There were no expectations. We were allowed to just _be_ without being caught up in our past.” Clarke looked over at him timidly. “That night we put out our sleeping bags under the blazing light of the aurora borealis and you just _held me_. We didn’t even need to talk because for the first time nothing else mattered. I’ve never felt closer to you than in that moment.”

Bellamy’s throat felt thick. He knew that night had been important to Clarke - it had featured heavily in her paintings in all of the years since. But he was embarrassed to admit that he’d never stopped to think about _why_. 

And that felt horrible. That was something that he should absolutely care about. It was the type of happiness he should be actively trying to pursue. And yet, he’d let it fall by the wayside, letting life get in the way.

“Bellamy?”

He blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Jade tilted her head. “I asked if you could tell me _your_ happiest memory together.”

He let out a small cough, buying time to try to steady his voice. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind about his answer.

“Funnily enough, it was on one of the most terrifying days of my life. After Serenity was born and I came back into the room and I saw you holding her… I know things didn’t go as planned in so many ways but in that moment - despite all of the shit we’ve had to go through I knew that it was right. _What we have is right_. And there isn’t anything that could change that.”

He chanced another glance in his wife’s direction, but she wouldn’t look at him. He couldn’t explain why, but that made his blood feel thick in his veins - like his heart had to work too hard to keep it moving.

“You have a daughter?” Jade asked, her cheerful expression firmly back in place.

Bellamy nodded, trying for a smile and coming up a little short. “She’s 8 months old and she’s… she’s everything.”

Jade’s grin broadened. Even if he was struggling emotionally at the moment, he could never keep the reverence out of his voice whenever he spoke about his little girl. The depth of the unconditional love he felt was overwhelming.

The counselor’s eyes transferred over to his wife and her expression faltered slightly as she took in the blonde’s forlorn posture. “Was it a difficult pregnancy Clarke?” She asked gently. 

Clarke worried her lips, lifting one shoulder halfheartedly. “It was short. We were using birth control so I didn’t even know I was pregnant until I was almost 12 weeks along. And she was born two months early.”

Jade’s eyebrows rose. “No wonder your husband described the day of her birth as terrifying.”

Clarke sighed. “It-” she shook her head, words seeming to fail her. She eventually settled on, “It wasn’t easy.” 

The ensuing silence seemed to stretch on, though it couldn’t have actually been more than a minute or two. 

“I love her,” Clarke finally whispered, her voice breaking, like she was trying her hardest to convince him. 

Which was insane - he’d never doubted that for a second.

Instinctively, his hand reached out for hers, but before it had even crossed the no-man's-land between them, she’d already balled hers into a fist and crammed it beneath her chin.

He stared at her. 

She’d never denied his comfort before. Not like this.

Jade’s voice made him flinch. He’d forgotten she was there. “Clarke, did your OB GYN ever speak to you about postpartum depression?”

She inhaled shakily. “I’ve been dealing with MDD for years.”

The counselor gave a slight nod. “So you knew that it was a distinct possibility.”

Neither Clarke nor Bellamy felt the need to respond.

Jade flipped her pen between her fingers absentmindedly. “Have you sought treatment?”

Clarke’s gaze stayed glued to the floor as she started to explain herself. “Serenity spent 9 weeks in the hospital, just to get to the point we could bring her home. And then after that… things were disorienting. For at least a month I couldn’t focus on anything other than just trying to figure out how to be a mom. And… even after that - everything has still been really hard. I feel like I haven’t had the time to focus on myself.”

Bellamy felt his jaw clench. She would have had the time if she’d have just _let_ him help.

Jade’s expression had tightened considerably. “We’re going to pivot the conversation I’d originally planned a bit because this is really important.” Leaning forward in her chair, she looked at Clarke intently. “Can you explain to both Bellamy and myself why it is that you feel that way?”

Clarke looked downright petrified for a moment.

“This isn’t about judgement,” Jade soothed. “We just need to hear where you’re coming from in order to come to a better understanding.”

Bellamy’s gaze was instantly drawn to the threatening wobble of Clarke’s lower lip. She bit down on it until it turned bloodless. “I…” She turned so her shoulders blocked more of his view, like she couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing the way that she was breaking down. “There’s so much about being a mom that I just - no matter how goddamn hard I try I fall short. Serenity won’t breastfeed. There are days that no matter what I do she just won’t settle. God - I couldn’t even keep her inside of me until she was full term. And I _knew_ it. I told Bellamy years ago that I shouldn’t be a mother. But when it just happened out of the blue I thought maybe…” Trailing off, she shook her head, bitter tears trailing down her cheeks. 

After a deep shuddering breath, she managed to continue. “There’s this darkness in me. And sometimes it seems like maybe it’s not as bad. But lately it’s been relentless. And it doesn’t just affect me - it’s this poison that taints everything around me too. It’s like - I’m physically incapable of happiness, at least for any extended period of time. And I know that Serenity can sense that in me. I don’t want that for my daughter.”

Bellamy had to force back his tears. “Clarke, you _know_ that’s the illness talking. Things would get better if you’d get treatment. They did before.” 

She didn’t look up. “Would they?” It was incredibly clear from the flatness of her tone that she didn’t believe it.

He found himself shaking his head in disbelief. “I understand that it feels-“

Before he could get another word in she’d cut him off. “You _don’t_ understand. Things are so easy for you - you don’t even have to try and Serenity just clings to you with a giant smile on her face. How could you possibly understand what it’s like to drag everyone else in your life down? Putting a bandaid on things for a few months or even a year isn’t going to change the fact that the emptiness always comes back.”

Out of nowhere, his frustration came right back to the surface. “ _Jesus_ Clarke - you aren’t being rational right now and I know that you know that-”

“Bellamy.” Jade’s stern voice caused his head to whip around. “I know that things like this can be incredibly hard to hear, but invalidating the way that Clarke feels isn’t going to help the situation. I’m going to ask that for now you just listen and try not to interrupt. You’ll have your chance to talk about how you feel in due time.” 

His teeth clicked together as his jaw snapped closed.

The ensuing silence was so sharp it was nearly painful.

His wife was stone still. A fat tear plopped heavily onto her thigh.

“Clarke could you elaborate a little more about how exactly you’ve been feeling these last few months?” Jade prodded gently.

Again, Bellamy was unsure if she’d actually comply.

After a few minutes, she shifted her weight a little bit, easing herself into saying more. “I’ve felt really alone. It’s not that Bellamy isn’t there - he absolutely is when he doesn’t have to be at work. But it’s so isolating to feel like nobody gets it. I have so many reasons to be grateful - despite everything Serenity is healthy, I have a loving husband, things seem like they’re going right in my life… The way that I feel doesn’t make any sense and burdening other people with it - even the thought of that makes me nauseous.”

Bellamy had to physically bite his tongue to keep himself from saying anything. 

“And I just… Bellamy is this amazing dad. He was glued to Serenity’s side since that first day in the NICU. Fatherhood seems so intuitive to him. Seeing that - it just makes me feel even more inadequate when I can’t even figure out _why_ my daughter is crying half the time.”

He stared at the side of her head, wishing she would just look over, but it was like she couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact, her shame was too heavy. 

“Is there anything specific about taking care of your daughter that has felt particularly challenging?” Jade pressed.

Clarke’s cheeks flushed before her chin dipped even lower, tendrils of hair coming loose from behind her ears to shade her face. “The fact that she absolutely refuses to breastfeed.” Clarke’s voice had gone so quiet he had to actually strain to hear it.

“I have a lot of scars on my body and I’m incredibly self conscious about them. The only people that have actually seen them all are Bellamy and the people who saved my life. When Serenity was still in the hospital, I tried working with a lactation expert for weeks. It made me feel exposed on a level that I hadn’t experienced in years, but I forced myself to push through it anyway for the benefit of my daughter. When we made the decision to stop trying because it was just traumatizing both of us… it just felt like it’d all been for nothing. I’ve never felt like more of a failure.”

He hadn’t known that. Sure, he’d been one of the ones to suggest she stop trying to force it - seeing how upset she’d been getting had broken his heart. But he hadn’t known the underlying reasons for her heightened anxiety at the time.

“Besides that, it’s just… as a firefighter Bellamy works incredibly long shifts. On a hard day when nothing seems to be going right - there’s no one to help me for a full 24 hours and that’s… It hurts. And sometimes even just thinking about it makes me panic and that seems to make things worse. It’s like this vicious cycle. And lately the bad days have certainly been outnumbering the good.”

She stopped there, moving to drag her legs toward her chest, hugging her knees. Jade waited patiently before seeming to sense that Clarke didn’t have anything else to add for the time being.

“Clarke, I know that must have been difficult to share. Thank you for being so open and honest.”

One of her shoulders lifted slightly before slumping back down.

Bellamy’s stomach churned. He hadn’t seen her look so demoralized in a really long time. Knowing Clarke meant recognizing that she’d been hiding the depth of her despair behind a thinly veiled façade for an extended period of time. He legitimately hadn’t realized just how strongly her depression had come back. He felt a little blindsided. Bone-deep worry rivaled against frustration that she’d been refusing to open up to him again. The gap between them seemed to stretch even wider.

And on top of everything else he felt so goddamn exhausted - both physically and emotionally. His grip on everything felt tenuous at best, like he was barely managing to hold his world together by the tips of his fingers and with one more slip he could lose it all.

“Bellamy, I can tell that you’re still trying to process things, but it’s really important that both sides in a relationship have an opportunity to have a voice. Now would be the time for you to talk about how you’ve been feeling about all of this.”

He was right back to shaking his head. He didn’t see how that would help in any way. Not when Clarke looked like the slightest nudge would cause her to shatter completely. “I really don’t think that that’s a good idea.” 

Clarke pinched the bridge of her nose. “You always do this.”

He felt his eyes widen. “What?”

She finally looked at him, her eyes glittering. “How do you think it makes me feel that you can’t even allow yourself to talk about what you’re going through, for fear that it’ll send me off the deep end?”

He blinked hard. “What are you talking about?” 

“I’m not the only one with problems in this relationship. But you act like nothing that’s going on with you matters because you’re afraid that I’ll do something drastic.”

“That’s not-” he cut off abruptly, feeling heat rush to his cheeks. Sleep deprivation was the only excuse that he could come up with for the way that the dam inside of him holding back his more volatile emotions suddenly snapped. “You know what? Fine. You want to know how I’m feeling? I’m _furious_.” He forced himself to take a breath. He had to tread cautiously, and not just for Clarke’s sake. If he revealed too much, the woman in front of them was unlikely to be as sympathetic as Gabriel had been. “I know that that’s not fair. But Clarke _we have a daughter._ This isn’t just about the two of us anymore. I’ve always been scared that I could lose you. But now…” He swallowed drily, his hands balling into fists. “I _know_ what it’s like to grow up without a mom. And _god_ the thought that Serenity could have to go through the same thing? Even worse - Clarke if you die, she won’t even remember you. You’d be this intangible loss in her life - something that she can feel is missing without ever being able to explain it. And that’s so unfair.”

Clarke turned her head sharply as if he’d slapped her. In a way, he felt like he had. He looked over at Jade, hoping the therapist would tell him to back off. Instead she just returned his gaze, looking contemplative. “Go on.”

His chest tightened, the air in the room seeming to become scarce. “I… I’m at a bit of a loss here. I knew that things were getting bad again, but the things that you’re saying Clarke-” he coughed in order to try to clear his throat. “We’ve been here before. I’m not a stranger to the idea that we could be dealing with something like this again. But I just don’t understand…”

He worked his jaw, still trying to compose himself. When he looked at her, the image was blurry, colors swimming together until he could barely make sense of them.

“I thought you trusted me. And I knew how afraid you were that this would happen. But we promised each other that we’d be open about it. And instead you’ve done everything that you can to push me away. At times I swear I hardly even recognize you anymore. The partnership that we’ve been nurturing for years feels like it’s disappeared. You’re this shell - not the woman I fell in love with. And in a sick way it’s familiar. I’ve seen you put on a mask to protect yourself over and over again, but it’s never been directed at _me_.”

He wiped at his cheeks angrily. “All I want to do is help you, but you won’t let me.”

Clarke’s posture was still stiff. Her lower lip trembled before she trapped it between her teeth. “I was embarrassed,” her voice could barely be considered a whisper. 

The fight drained out of him so quickly that it was almost dizzying. “Embarrassed about _what_? Clarke we’ve seen each other at our absolute lowest points. Not once has it even come close to changing the way that I feel about you.”

A solitary tear leaked down onto her cheek. She didn’t brush it away.

He didn’t know what else to say - at least not in front of a relative stranger.

Jade seemed to sense that. She shifted her notes around on her desk. “Out of all of the couples that have walked through my doors, the number one problem that I see in relationships is a failure to communicate. That’s because it’s hard. Nobody likes to hear about the ways that they’ve fallen short. Similarly, very few people want to make their partner feel guilty. But communication is absolutely fundamental to the connection that you have. Without it, there’s nothing deeper holding you together. And without it, resentment starts to grow.” She steepled her fingers on the desk. “The two of you have started to open those lines back up. Certainly nothing has been solved - not after mere hours. But I know how painful this is. I don’t want to push things more today. I also don’t want to end this session on a negative note. So we’re going to do one more little exercise.”

Bellamy found his eyes once again wandering over to his wife, worried that she would have already shut down. Her eyes were unfocused, but she hadn’t completely closed off yet. He was grateful.

“When I asked you before to share your fondest memories, both of you chose momentous occasions - and that’s okay. It’s natural to hold a kind of reverence for those types of events. But we also have a tendency to overlook the smaller things. I want you to think of something that your partner does that you truly admire or appreciate, but that has a tendency to go unmentioned. Bellamy, we can start with you.”

He thought for a moment, but once again the answer was fairly obvious. “When you paint.” One side of his lips twitched up. “You’re so talented Clarke. I swear anytime you even touch a canvas it’s like magic comes out. And no matter what you’re feeling you somehow always manage to turn it into something beautiful.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized something - he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her paint. No matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn’t come up with a single time since Serenity was born. How had he not noticed _that_?

Once again it took Jade’s voice to snap him free from his thoughts. “Clarke?”

She seemed to shrink in on herself, like she’d give anything for everyone’s focus to be directed anywhere else, but she still answered. “When you make me tea.” She grimaced, as if in apology for the lameness of her answer. “It’s like you just know. I never have to say anything, you just sense that I need the comfort and it’s this tiny gesture but it means so much. Somehow it’s become something that I associate so strongly with you that even when you’re not there if I make myself a cup it can still help to calm me.”

He felt his eyebrows lift, his hand twitching in his lap as if to reach out again, but he couldn’t. He was too afraid of another rejection.

There was silence for a few more beats, before Clarke turned her head to examine the cushion by her leg.

“It’s obvious that the two of you love each other deeply. I don’t think that anyone here is questioning that. I want to put a pause on things here and I’m going to ask that you do your best to refrain from talking about what we’ve just discussed for the remainder of the evening. I think it’s valuable to allow some time for things to digest and to gain perspective. If there’s anything that you’d like to discuss more in depth, we can do so tomorrow.”

Bellamy wasn’t sure it would be possible for them to hold off. He was fairly certain that as soon as they were in the privacy of their own room, all bets were off. But he wouldn’t say that out loud.

“Tonight I’d like you to make an effort to keep things positive. Go for a walk - there are lovely trails that lead throughout the property. Or call it an early night - rest is always beneficial. Tomorrow once we're done revisiting where we’ve left off, we’ll work on other forms of reconnection. Any questions?”

He assumed that they both shook their heads.

Clarke was the first one to get up, but Bellamy wasn’t very far behind. He followed her all the way back up to the bedroom, though she never acknowledged his presence.

After he’d quietly closed the door, Clarke sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, her face tucked low and her shoulders hunched toward her ears. “I’m so so sorry,” she whispered brokenly.

Bellamy shook his head from where he was still stationed across the room. “Stop it Clarke. I don’t need an apology. I need you to actually make an effort to get better.”

Her posture didn’t change, but her eyes flickered up to him, peering through her hair. “I swear that I wasn’t trying to... That it wasn’t-” She kept stumbling over her words, unable to actually complete the sentence. Tears once again gathered in the corners of her eyes, shimmering in the low light and threatening to spill over. After shaking her head bitterly, she changed tact. “I just needed a moment. It was too much and I stepped outside to try to pull it together and I-” she cut off into a choked hiccup.

Bellamy finally came forward, squatting down and cupping her face in his hands. “I believe you.” She closed her eyes, one shining crystal springing free and landing heavily on her cheek. “Hey. I believe you, okay? But it doesn’t matter.”

Her eyelashes fluttered open, revealing the deep hurt welling up underneath.

“Clarke, whether you consciously intended to or not… the results would have ended up the same.”

Her lips parted on a protest. “No, I would have-”

“Don’t.” He pulled his hands away, standing back up and squeezing the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger. “Clarke there is _no way_ that you were getting out of that water on your own. When I found you, your temperature was two degrees away from sending you into cardiac arrest. The tide was coming in. What the hell would have happened if I hadn’t come home? If I’d suddenly had to finish my shift?”

“I...” She blinked rapidly. “No. I-”

Bellamy hardened. God, he hated having to do this, but Gabriel had been right - she needed the wake up call. “We probably wouldn’t have found your body for days. And Serena…” His voice cracked. He took a deep breath. “Fuck. I don’t even want to _think_ about what would have happened.”

Clarke visibly shrank, curling tighter into herself like she’d disappear if she could.

“Of course I’m mad. I could have lost _everything_. But a lot of that anger is directed inward - at myself. I made a vow that I’d be by your side on your darkest days and once again I’m failing that. You shouldn’t have felt like you were facing this alone. That’s on me.”

The tears had become a steady torrent down her face. He sat down at her side, leaning a shoulder against hers and slipping one hand up under the hem of her sweater to rest against the small of her back.

“You _need_ to get help. We can’t just pretend that this isn’t happening anymore. But I’m here okay? Whatever you need I’ll always be right here. Even if I’m being an idiot or you think I’m too busy, you can still talk to me Clarke. I _want_ to know how you’re feeling. It’s not a burden.”

She used the edge of her sleeve to mop at her face. “It’s not that I don’t _want_ to get better. Of course I do. I’ve just lost faith in the ability for that to actually happen. Every time I fall back it’s so disheartening. But… I’ll try. I _promise_ I’ll try - for you and for Serenity.”

His chest finally started to loosen.

“But I won’t do pills. I can’t do that again Bellamy - especially while she’s still taking breast milk-”

His hand squeezed, trying to slow her down. “Okay. Shh - it’s okay Clarke. We can talk to Tsing about starting you on TMS again. And if that doesn’t help, we'll move on to something different. It doesn’t matter to me what the plan is, as long as we’re actively trying something.” His free hand came up to her cheek, his thumb wiping beneath her eyelashes. She was still rigid against his touch, but at least she wasn’t shying away. 

“Last night terrified me. I was scared of so many things - that I wouldn’t find you, that I’d be too late… that I’d have to raise Serena _alone_ . I don’t ever want to feel that powerless again. I just… I want you to talk to me Clarke. I don’t care what else is going on. You can _always_ come to me.”

Her lips quivered. “I know. Deep down I _know_. I’ve just spent so long feeling so isolated. It’s hard.”

He wanted to kiss her. He knew they weren’t there yet.

She took a deep shuddering breath. “I’m trying Bell.”

His arm tightened around her waist. “I know.”

She shifted a bit, leaning away like she was getting uncomfortable. He let his arm drop, not the least bit offended. 

Realization had been slow to come, but now he could look at things with more clarity. It wasn't about rejection. Even the most innocent physical intimacy had always been hard won with Clarke - and that had started well before she’d been raped. It could have stemmed from the initial kidnapping or it could have been a byproduct of the Griffins’ distanced parenting - he hadn’t known her well enough before everything had happened to be sure.

But anytime she was struggling with her mental health it was one of the first things to go. In hindsight it was yet another clear sign that he absolutely should have clued in to. Yet another jagged pill of his ignorance for him to swallow.

She needed some space and he didn’t want to push too far too fast. Instead, he brought both of his hands into his lap, fiddling with his wedding band absentmindedly. “What do you say to going for a walk after dinner?”

She didn’t answer right away. Turning his head, he instantly read the hesitation in her face and shot her an expectant look, wondering if he needed to remind her already that she’d promised to be open about her feelings.

A gusty breath released from somewhere deep inside of her. “I’m not sure that I can go back down there today,” she admitted sheepishly.

He tried to reassure her with a nod. “I can find something to bring up here instead.”

Her head bobbed slightly. “Thank you.”

He stood up, then bent forward as if to kiss her temple, only to pull up short at the last minute. An awkward pause ensued until he ran a hand through his hair and made his way to the door.

It was the first time he felt like he’d really left her side since he’d found her. The surge of relief that washed over him after leaving the tension of the room just served to make him feel more guilty.

He was still absorbed in that thought when he passed into the facility’s quaint dining area.

A few other couples dotted the room, all of them seeming to be in varying circumstances in their relationships. Jade was also sitting at a table with a few people who he assumed were her colleagues. When she spotted him she immediately stood up, excusing herself before she made her way to his side.

“Bellamy could I speak to you for a minute?” She asked quietly.

He nodded then followed her through a set of doors onto the building's small veranda. It was chilly out, but not to the point of being painful. He folded his arms across his chest and used his chin to motion for her to speak.

“Being completely honest, some of the topics that came up during your session today were more than a little concerning.” She tugged at the hem of her shirt, fussing with it until it straightened out. “In my profession, there are certain red flags that we’re obligated to take action on. So I’m going to ask you a question, and I’m going to be blunt. Has Clarke tried to hurt herself?”

His mouth went dry. He took his time formulating his response in such a way that would hopefully keep their family together, without outright lying. “She’s been suicidal in the past. Yesterday, something happened that really shook me, but we just talked about it and she assured me that that wasn’t her intention and I believe her.” He shook his head, looking at the wood boards beneath his feet. “Believe me - I understand that she’s far from okay. But she agreed to start treatment for her depression again. And she’s willing to go back to her therapist. Like I mentioned in our session earlier, we’ve been here before and those types of interventions have worked.”

Jade studied him, her gaze intense. He could tell that she knew that he was hiding something, but she didn’t call him out on it. “I’m glad that the two of you have made progress. But you’re not out of the woods yet. You’ve still got a lot of work to do on your marriage.”

A bitter chuckle rolled past his lips. “You think?” He’d never realized just how fractured their relationship had become - not to mention some of the problems they’d apparently always had. Clarke certainly wasn’t the only one being served some hard truths on this retreat.

The corner of her lips ticked up wryly. “Luckily you’re in the right place to make that happen.” Sobering a little, she once again regarded him intensely. “I’m still not completely convinced that I don’t need to take this to a higher level, but I’m willing to see how things go tomorrow.”

Bellamy swallowed thickly, trying to continue to exude calm. “Thank you.”

Jade opened the door back up, speaking to him over her shoulder. “Did you two decide on some plans for this evening?”

He shrugged a shoulder, running a hand through his hair. “We’re both pretty exhausted. I was just going to bring some food up for Clarke and then I think we’ll turn in early.”

The counselor gave him a soft smile. “I think that sounds like a good idea. Usually we discourage bringing food up to the rooms but I think we could make an exception. I’ll try to find you a tray.”

10 minutes later he was back upstairs, loaded down with soup and sandwiches. He even managed to find a package of peppermint tea on the coffee cart. It wasn’t the same as what he usually made for her, but it would have to do.

Clarke picked at her food, but she still made a decent enough dent before leaving the room to take a hot shower and get ready for bed.

He let himself fall heavily against the pillows, then reached blindly for his phone where he'd left it on the nightstand.

He had a message from Link asking for an update. He just stared at it, his fingers unmoving. What was he supposed to say? That the update was that he’d been a shitty husband?

With a grimace, he scrolled down, only to be overwhelmed by about a thousand questions from Octavia. Even the thought of going through them and answering made his temples throb and his stomach tie up in knots. 

He moved on to the final notifications. Kane had sent him a few pictures. They showed Serenity having some tummy time in the older man’s living room. Ignoring his sister and brother-in-law for the time being, he allowed himself to just take some comfort in the photos of his little girl. She was grinning, her azure eyes bright. It didn’t appear that she'd been overly traumatized by the previous evening’s events, and for that he was thankful.

Clarke came back into the room, her hair hanging in damp tendrils around her face. His first instinct was to hand her the phone, show her the images that were giving him solace - but he stopped himself. He wasn’t sure if it would actually serve the opposite purpose, feeding into her guilt. He felt so lost. He didn’t know how to help her.

She sat down stiffly on the opposite edge of the bed and he put his phone down with a sigh.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked her softly.

The look she shot him over her shoulder was filled with disbelief and he wanted to kick himself.

“That’s not what I…” he let himself trail off and just started over. “Physically. I meant to ask if you’re physically alright.” He shook his head, rubbing at the stubble on his jaw. “I screwed up last night. I was in a total panic and I wasn’t thinking rationally, but I should have taken you to see a doctor. If you get sick, I-” His voice cracked, cutting off abruptly.

“I’m fi-” Clarke managed to temper the instinctive words. She took her time, seeming to do a more thorough assessment. “My head has been pounding for the last couple days and every single muscle in my body hurts like I decided to run a marathon with zero training. But I don’t feel sick.”

He nodded, appreciating that she was putting in the effort to be honest. “Do you want me to try to find some Tylenol?”

Shaking her head, she slid her legs under the covers. “I just want to sleep.” She rolled onto her side, facing away from him and curled her knees toward her chest. The deafening silence enveloped both of them and he felt like punching a wall.

Marriage counseling was supposed to help save their relationship. And yet, he’d never felt more distant from her - at least not since he’d been physically restrained with her purposely taking up a position against the opposite wall beyond his reach.

And then his mind threw him right back into that stark white cell, the high pitched whine of the bare incandescent bulb on the ceiling buzzing in his ears. Dread flooded his veins as his skin prickled and his stomach revolted against the minestrone he’d recently eaten. 

Clarke’s shoulders sagged. If she’d noticed the sudden hitch in his breathing, she didn’t give any indication. “Goodnight,” she whispered to him quietly. 

A cold sweat had broken out down the center of his back. “‘Night,” he muttered back, staring at his shaking hands and trying to remind himself that they were free. He could see the faint scars around his wrists. There were no metal cuffs.

It wasn’t enough.

On weak legs, he got off of the bed and hurriedly stumbled into the bathroom. Trying to remain as collected as he could, he flipped the shower on until cool water rained down in a steady torrent. 

Quickly shedding his clothes, he stepped under the glacial stream, trying to focus on each icy trickle as it rolled across his skin. There had been nothing cold about that place. The heat had been brutal and unrelenting. 

But he wasn’t there anymore. He _knew_ he wasn’t there anymore.

Clenching and unclenching one fist, he bowed his head until the water drilled across his shoulder blades. He’d had his PTSD relatively under control for so long. And it was such a stupid thing to be triggered by. Clarke should be able to sleep with her back to him. It was rare, but it certainly wasn’t the first time she’d done it, and this had never happened before. 

The only explanation that he could come up with was the stress he’d been under and the lack of sleep. 

His lungs started to inflate more fully, his vision clearing.

Turning off the water, he toweled himself off, trying to avoid looking at his haunted expression in the mirror. He felt slightly more in control, but his body was still on high alert, his heart racing faster than it should have been.

Going to bed seemed counterintuitive, but there wasn’t much else for him to do. They hadn’t brought much with them, and he didn’t trust himself to leave their room - not if he fell into a full blown flashback.

Back in the bedroom, Clarke had fallen asleep - or at least pretended to. He fidgeted nervously in the threshold for a moment before turning off all of the lights.

He elected to just lay down and focus on his breathing, trying to relax. He didn’t want to sleep. He knew what awaited him if he closed his eyes.

Unfortunately, his exhaustion won out and before long, without even realizing it, he’d drifted off.

_The darkness was broken by an ear piercing scream. He bolted upright, scrambling to his feet just as another wordless cry rang out. He couldn’t see anything - just an empty black void. He couldn’t pinpoint where she was - Clarke’s terrified voice seemed to be coming from all around him._

_“Please stop… make it stop,” Clarke sobbed, her haunting words sounding like they were being torn from her raw throat._

_He lurched forward - even if he didn’t know her location, standing still wasn’t helping anyone. He was almost immediately jerked up short, his shoulders aching where they’d been jolted in their sockets._

_Clarke screamed again._

_“Clarke, hold on!” His own voice was just as hoarse. He tried again, rebelling with all of his might against whatever restraining force was holding him back. “Just hold on._ Please. _”_

_He couldn’t move. Everything he did was useless._

_Clarke’s pleading continued, interspersed by deep hacking coughs as she struggled to breathe._

_And then all of the sudden it was overlaid by a new voice. His blood ran cold._

_Serenity._

_Her anguished wails were soul shattering, her tiny voice breaking after her cries had gone unanswered for so long. He wanted to fight even harder. Instead he was frozen._

_He felt like he was being electrocuted all over again - his racing heart beating on the outside of his chest._

_“No,” he croaked. They were both in danger - both in_ pain _\- and he couldn't do a goddamn thing. “Please no.”_

_Clarke’s shriek cut off abruptly and he thought he would die, every muscle in his body seizing painfully._

He jolted awake, alerted by the sudden silence that was only broken by his own panting breath and the thunder of his heartbeat in his ears.

He still felt paralyzed, but he was able to start grounding himself, taking in the press of the sweat soaked sheets sticking to his skin, the muted sound of a couple arguing down the hall-

The light tickle of fingertips carding through his hair.

His eyes snapped open. The hand stilled.

He blinked blearily, barely able to make sense of anything in the low light and the unfamiliar room.

“Shh,” Clarke soothed, her fingers resuming their slow dance. “I’m right here. You’re okay.”

He brought a trembling hand to his mouth, a watery groan escaping through his lips.

She kept quietly working on calming him down until his body gave out, too exhausted to hold the tension any longer. He sagged into the mattress.

Clarke scooted down until she was lying beside him. She tucked one hand beneath his tricep while using the other to tightly intertwine their fingers. “It’s okay now. You can go back to sleep. I’ll be right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He missed the weight of her head on his chest, her ear pressed against his heart. But she was already giving him more than he could ask for, her anxious eyes practically glowing.

He squeezed her hand, focusing on the warmth radiating from her palms as the heavy weight of sleep pulled at him once again.

One last phrase whispered through his ears as he drifted off. 

_“I’m so sorry.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that I haven't completely scared everyone away and that there are still people reading. I knew that this was going to be a tough story and I know that it has been triggering to some readers - always take care of yourself first!
> 
> PPD is incredibly common and yet it's rarely talked about. Just check the tag and you'll see what I mean. I wanted to remain authentic to the characters and the journey that they've been on and that means not sugarcoating things. I know that that's really uncomfortable and I'm sorry.
> 
> The next chapter will show Clarke and Bellamy taking significant steps to rebuild their relationship and they'll end up stronger as a couple because of it. I'm struggling a little bit with getting the wording right. Hopefully I'll have it out for you next week, but if not It'll probably be the week after.
> 
> If you're still reading let me know! Comments and kudos are always very much appreciated 💜


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a content warning, see the end of the first chapter

Somehow, he managed to sleep through the rest of the night uninterrupted. Even so, he still woke up feeling out of sorts.

Shortly after dawn rolled around and he had to concede he wouldn’t be able to drift off again, he decided to go for a run.

That was a rarity for him. He hated running. It reminded him too much of basic training. He’d put his military career behind him and that was where he wanted it to stay.

But he really needed to shut his brain off, even if it was only for a little while. And the mindless drone of his feet hitting the trail was the first idea he came up with.

The morning was crisp, but the fresh air was soothing as it entered his lungs. Throughout his relationship with Clarke, he’d gained a real appreciation for nature, and the grounds surrounding the facility were nearly as serene as it got. He followed a meandering path through the trees, eventually ending up at a fenced in pasture. He stayed there for a little while, catching his breath while leaning back against a wide oak, watching the sky lighten into shades of coral and lavender. 

He may not have been able to truly outpace his demons, but he could get far enough to leave them behind for a little while. If only he could somehow manage to keep his fragile hold on the peace that he’d found for the rest of the day.

When he arrived back at their room, it was empty. A brief flutter of panic spasmed through his diaphragm before he forced himself to take a calming breath. Clarke was an adult. She had autonomy. She was allowed to live her life without him having to know where she was every second of the day.

Stepping through into the small bathroom, he set about showering off the post-workout funk.

By the time he walked back into the small living space, still toweling off his hair, Clarke was back. She’d been sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for him, her hands fidgeting in her lap. 

He scanned her over. She looked a lot more put together than she had the previous day. Sleep had done her some good, even if it had been fitful and interrupted. There was even a bit more color to her skin.

Her chin lifted when she heard the door creak. “I didn’t mean to disappear on you. I just decided to have my morning tea on the back porch.”

He nodded, then sat down on the opposite side of the mattress. “Thank you for last night. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

Her hands stilled. Furrowing her brow, her lips tightened before some of her hair fell forward to shield her features. “I’m still _me_ Bellamy. I…” She inhaled shakily. “I know I seem like this broken mess incapable of even functioning on a basic level, but I still care. I still can’t stand to see you in pain. In no universe would I ever just lie there and let you suffer.”

His throat seemed to thicken. That was essentially _exactly_ what he’d done the previous night. He felt like absolute shit. It didn’t matter that he’d been wrestling with his own emotions. There was no excuse good enough.

And on top of that, he couldn’t stand to hear her talk about herself that way - to hear that she thought that was how _he_ saw her.

Before he could come up with the right words to say in response, she’d already moved on. “I ran into Jade downstairs. She wants to get started on things as soon as possible.”

His hand twitched on the bedspread. He was still contemplating whether he should let her previous comment go. Ultimately, even though it went against everything his heart was telling him, he decided to move on. He was still trying to formulate what needed to be said, and she didn’t need to hear it right at that second.

“Did you eat?” He finally asked her, his voice sounding gruff.

Clarke hesitated, worrying her lips before answering. “No.”

Standing up, he headed for the door, motioning her through. “Then we’ll start with having breakfast together. We can go find her when we’re done.” 

Once they were seated in the dining area, it was apparent that neither one of them had much of an appetite. That wasn’t unusual for Clarke - watching her barely get through a carton of yogurt felt almost commonplace by that point. But this time he couldn’t eat either. His entire abdomen felt like it was tied up in knots. He didn’t even want to touch his bagel.

Finally he gave up - he couldn’t hold it in any longer. Reaching across the small table, he took Clarke’s hand. She looked back at him, her brow creasing with concern.

“Clarke, I-” he swallowed, his gaze lowering to the rings on her finger. The glitter of the diamonds seemed to almost mock him for his failures. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I’ve been absolutely awful to you the last couple days.” He grimaced. “No. Not just the last couple days… I can’t even-”

The lines on her forehead softened. “No, Bellamy. What I did-”

“Wasn’t your fault.” He cut her off before she could go any further. “And I know that. I’ve _always_ known that. I was just so blinded by my anger about the whole situation… But I should never have taken that out on you. It wasn’t my intention, but that’s still what happened and I hate myself for it.”

She twisted her wrist until their fingers were tightly interlaced, her thumb pressing circles into his knuckles. “You’re already forgiven.”

His mouth fell open, his words falling short. He didn’t know how she could just do that. It shouldn’t have been that easy to let it go and he certainly deserved to be held accountable for his actions.

“Bellamy I know that you’re frustrated by the fact that there’s nothing you can do to fix this. Combine that with the people you love being in danger and things boiled over. Since then, you’ve been nothing but patient and considerate like always. Why would I hold that against you?”

He shook his head. _Because you deserve so much better._

“Sorry to interrupt.” Whatever imaginary bubble of privacy they’d constructed around themselves seemed to burst. They both looked up to find Jade standing beside their table. “I’d really like to get started if that’s alright with the two of you.”

Bellamy hesitated. There was still so much more that he needed to say. But Clarke flexed her fingers and he reluctantly let go, standing up to follow the two women back to the office.

As promised, they spent the morning revisiting the topics they’d broached the previous day, although the atmosphere was a lot less volatile. Clarke even reached out to him from time to time, though her touches were brief. He kept a hand palm up on the cushion by her leg, the offer clearly open, but didn’t feel comfortable initiating contact without her seeking it out yet.

After lunch, they moved on to some exercises meant to rebuild their relationship. Stepping away from the couch, Jade had them instead sit on a pair of chairs facing each other. Things started relatively simple - they were asked to quietly maintain eye contact with one another for 90 seconds. 

It was so much more intimate than he could have imagined. 

Something that he felt would never have phased him before was actually a challenge. He felt tears welling up by the one minute mark. By the end they’d escaped, running in small rivers, crisscrossing his cheeks. 

It was the reminder of just how much they’d avoided each other's gazes lately that did him in. He felt like he hadn’t truly gotten lost in the sapphire depths of her irises in far too long. He’d almost forgotten the feeling. 

Clarke looked as if she’d come to a similar revelation. She seemed to be almost holding her breath, her skin going pale. When they were given the signal that the time was up, she inhaled sharply but didn’t look away. She shifted so that the outside of her shin pushed along the inside of his leg, keeping steady pressure between their limbs. Bellamy leaned into it, feeling another fraction of his tension slip away.

Clarke’s lips twitched, but then Jade was talking again and both of them were once again distracted by their next task.

Still facing each other and trying to remain locked in on their partners emotions, they were given topics to discuss. They’d started easy - debating where they’d want to go if they’d been given carte blanche to go on a dream vacation. Slowly the subjects got more uncomfortable - Bellamy explaining how he wanted to be more involved in taking care of Serenity and how it sometimes crushed him when Clarke would reject his help.

By the end, the things that they were talking about were downright painful, but unlike the previous day, no one raised their voice or tried to hide their tears. They were simply open with each other, discussing things with maturity and offering small doses of comfort - a delicately wiped cheek here and a short smile there - whenever it was necessary.

Jade seemed to approve of the way that things were going. She rarely interrupted, for the most part just sitting behind her desk and taking notes. Eventually she stood up, walking around to lean her hip on the wooden edge. When there was a lull in the conversation she spoke up. “It’s time for us to break for dinner. If you don’t mind, I’d still like to have one more session tonight to make up for some lost time.”

Bellamy barely had to glance at Clarke before nodding his approval. It finally felt like they were making progress and the last thing he wanted to do was to break that momentum.

Jade smiled softly. “Good. Things are going to run a little differently though. I want to meet with each of you individually, hear any concerns that you have that you’ve maybe felt too uncomfortable to bring up in front of each other. Understand that I won’t promise to keep anything that you say confidential from your partner. I absolutely will not take sides. I’ll work through things with you if I think that’s the best course of action, or we’ll all talk about it tomorrow if that would be more appropriate.” She paused there, letting that sink in. When neither one of them made a comment, she continued. “In the meantime, while you’re alone, I’d like each of you to write the other a letter. In every relationship, so many things go unsaid. It can be really hard to say things face to face, and even when you do, it’s easy to lose focus and a portion of the message ends up lost. Think of this as an appreciation letter - focus on the positives you want each other to hear. When the private sessions are done I’ll exchange the notes for you, then I’d like you to read them while you’re still separated. I really want each of you to have a chance to let the words sink in before you address what you’ve read. Any questions?”

They had none.

Her grin broadened. “Excellent. Bellamy, I’d like to start with you first. I’ll meet you right back here once you’ve finished eating.”

After having spent most of the day talking, dinner passed in companionable silence. When his plate was empty, Clarke reached across the table, running a thumb lightly across the back of his wrist. “I’ll see you tonight,” she whispered softly.

Nodding, he stood up and left the room, giving her shoulder a light squeeze as he passed. The nerves were starting to come back, his conversation with Jade the previous night weighing heavily at the forefront of his mind.

By the time he’d reentered the office, his mouth had gone dry. He wasn’t sure that he was ready to face the music. Still, he tried to act as calm as he could as he sat down on the edge of the sofa.

Jade studied him, playing with her pen for a moment before speaking. “How are you holding up?”

He exhaled slowly. “I’m not sure.” It may have been a lame answer, but at least it was honest.

The therapist inclined her head knowingly. “That’s understandable. If it makes you feel any better - I think that the two of you have made remarkable progress considering the state of your relationship when you came in yesterday.”

He still wasn’t sure about that either. Yes, the hostility had all but disappeared, but things still weren’t easy between them the way they’d always been. He knew that that was asking a lot, considering their lives had essentially imploded only 48 hours earlier. 

But he missed his wife. 

He missed not being afraid of whether every gesture he made was welcome or not. And no, that wasn’t new. But it was certainly amplified more intensely than it ever had been before.

Trying not to cringe, he clasped his hands between his knees. “Does that mean that you’re willing to let your concerns go?”

She put her pen down deliberately, taking her time to make sure it was properly aligned with the edge of her notebook. “I won’t be making that assessment until this retreat is over. Certainly not before I speak to Clarke individually.”

He allowed his eyes to close for a moment before blinking them back open. “I suppose that’s fair.”

Jade nodded then shifted in her chair. “So let’s talk about you. I know that you’ve been hesitant to bring up anything that you think could potentially upset Clarke. This is your space to get things off your chest. I know you already see Gabriel, but it can certainly be helpful to talk to someone with knowledge of the other side of the relationship as well.”

He squeezed at his knuckles, feeling the bones shift beneath his skin. His jaw was still clenched tight.

“Come on Bellamy. I know that there’s still more bothering you.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid to go back to work,” he finally relented.

She allowed him some time to elaborate before giving up and prodding, “Do you think there’s a specific reason behind that?”

Pressing his lips together, his shoulders inched higher toward his ears. “She took a pregnancy test while I was working. When I got home she was in the middle of a panic attack so severe she was barely breathing… she couldn’t even tell me what was wrong. Then she went into premature labor while I was on shift - thank god my sister was there, but I wasn’t around to support her through some incredibly scary complications and I missed the birth of my daughter. And now this latest incident…” he trailed off, the words feeling stuck.

“I feel like I can’t leave her alone. And it’s not that I don’t trust her - I know that none of it was intentional. It’s just I don’t trust the circumstances of our lives. And especially when she’s this deep into a depressive episode…”

“Have you thought about taking some time off?” Jade asked him gently.

He could feel his grimace. “I can’t. It’s not that we’re in dire straits financially - not yet at least. But I barely worked while Serena was in the hospital. My chief has been incredibly understanding throughout all of the turmoil over the span of my career - hell, he’s the only reason I made it past my probationary period. But I ran out of furlough a long time ago. At the end of the day if I have to choose between my career and my family, I’ll pick my family every time without question. But if it comes down to that, I have no idea how we’ll make ends meet.”

She seemed to take that in. “But you’re optimistic about treatment?”

He chewed at his tongue. “I know it’ll help. I also know that it isn’t foolproof. It never has been.” He couldn’t help but think back to Clarke’s last suicide attempt, a shudder racing down his spine. She’d been doing all of the right things at the time. And sure, they never could have anticipated the perfect storm of events that had transpired in such a short time period. But that just strengthened his anxious resolve. He was still convinced that it never would have happened if he’d been there.

“You know that you can’t be by her side every minute of the day. That’s not feasible. And I also don’t think that that’s what Clarke wants.”

His frown tugged hard at the corners of his lips. “I’m aware.”

She contemplated things a little bit more. “Do you see this anxiety carrying through once she’s started to show signs of improvement?”

Subconsciously, he pressed his wedding band against his finger until it felt like the warm metal was imbedding into the bone. “Long ago I accepted the fact that there will never be a day when I’m not worried about her. But I know it will get easier. If she’s doing better, it won’t be so all consuming.”

“So then, why don’t we toss some ideas around to help with things in the interim. Do you have any family close by?”

His chin dipped. “My sister lives in town, but-”

Jade leaned back until her chair tilted on its axis. “But what?”

Feeling his eyebrows scrunch together, he pushed himself a little further back on his seat. “She just had a baby - her second. I don’t want to add more stress to her plate. That wouldn’t be fair.”

The counselor raised an eyebrow. “Do you think she wouldn’t want to help?”

Bellamy shook his head. “No, that isn’t what I was implying at all.” He swallowed. “Octavia‘s had things almost as bad as Clarke. I don’t want to put her at risk of something similar happening.” Even though she’d long since grown up and had a family of her own, he’d always be protective of his little sister.

“Maybe that’s something that you should let her decide for herself? It sounds like your sister might be able to better sympathize with what Clarke is going through. That could be really beneficial.”

Bellamy didn’t respond right away. It was something he’d have to think about. He needed more time than what he currently had to weigh the pros and cons.

Almost as if she could read his thoughts, Jade continued. “Remember that we’re just brainstorming for right now. You don’t have to commit to anything.” She looked at him with probing eyes. “What about other family?”

He winced. “Both of Clarke’s parents still live around here, but they’re a no go.” Maybe it was beneath him to still be holding a grudge, but he wanted Jake to have as limited a presence in Serenity’s life as possible. And though Abby seemed to have finally gotten a handle on her addiction, her health was declining - not to mention that he didn’t particularly trust her around _anyone’s_ child without someone like Kane there to make sure she hadn’t started slipping. “My foster father also lives in Dam Neck though. That’s where Serena is now.”

“So he could be a good resource - someone who could potentially help with childcare duties if Clarke needs a break.” 

His chin dipped in a small nod. It was a possibility. Kane was still working full time, but Bellamy could absolutely see him taking a leave if they asked. He just wasn’t sure that they would. He knew that Clarke would be incredibly self conscious about asking for something that big. He was too. “We also have a strong network of friends that would probably be willing to help out.” The whole group had been outstanding those first couple of months. Jackson was great with Serena - he’d visited her every day he’d been on shift at the hospital. Monty and Harper were amazing as well. They still dropped off premade meals and kits of essentials for them from time to time. Raven wasn’t big on kids, but he had no doubt that she’d drop everything to be there for them if they even hinted they needed the help.

It was more of an issue of approaching them. Clarke had withdrawn from everyone and he hadn’t exactly been taking the time to foster those relationships either as of late. And they’d always kept their struggles private almost as a rule. He didn’t want Clarke to feel violated by him reaching out. But he was sure he could find a way to come up with a plan so that Clarke never had to spend a full shift alone again. He just needed some time to figure things out.

“That’s good,” Jade encouraged with a nod. “Leaning on those around you will put less of a strain on you as a couple. You can’t expect to navigate something like this completely isolated and I’m glad that you’re recognizing that.”

She watched him for a moment longer, her pen once again between her fingers as she slowly flipped it back and forth. “What else is bothering you?”

He slouched, tapping his fist into his open palm a few times. “I feel like I’m just…” Coming up with the right word was difficult. “Reeling I guess. I feel like I don’t know how to approach things. Throughout her pregnancy I could see that thinking about it too much was distressing for Clarke. It could send her into a spiral so fast... So early on I decided to just avoid talking about it as much as I could. But this is different. I can’t just _not talk_ about our daughter. And yet for the last two days I’ve watched her flinch every time I’ve brought up Serenity. I don’t know what to do. I can’t stand to see her hurting like this. Protecting Clarke… It’s what I do - what I’ve always done. But I can’t protect her from this. We can’t just stop being parents- Which certainly isn’t to say that that’s what I want-” he stammered at the end, trying to backtrack. He’d grimaced the second he’d heard the words come out of his mouth. That hadn’t been what he’d intended to say at all.

Jade’s lips twitched the slightest amount, acknowledging that she understood what he’d meant. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“I just want what’s best for my wife and for our child, but I don’t know how to get there. Right now it feels like a trade off - like I can either be a good father or a good husband but not both. And I know that can’t be right. Everything seems so impossible.” He finally finished frustratedly.

Jade sat up straighter, planting her elbows on the desk and folding her hands. “First, I think you need to try to look at things from a different perspective. I’ve never gotten the impression from Clarke that what’s upsetting to her is the fact that you have a daughter. To me it seems that she’s being crushed by her guilt, and for the moment any mention of Serenity is simply a reminder of that. If you work on trying to reframe her mindset - focusing on parenting successes, and reinforcing any positive feelings about motherhood that she’s having - then as her mental state improves I can almost guarantee that her reactions will too. You don’t have to _avoid_ talking about Serenity, or being affectionate with her in front of Clarke or anything like that. That won’t help the situation.

“But I also need you to remember not to invalidate her feelings. No matter how hard it is, you need to listen. The last thing that anyone wants is for Clarke to start shutting down again. If she feels like she can’t talk about her perceived failures with you, that’s what will happen.”

He let his hands drop. “ _How?_ How can I just sit there and accept it when she’s tearing herself apart? I’m sorry, but I don’t see how that’s helpful either.”

Despite his obvious agitation, Jade remained unflappable. “Listen, acknowledge that you heard her, then let her know your perspective. You don’t have to agree. Just don’t imply that what she’s feeling is wrong. She has to be comfortable talking to you about incredibly private things - feelings that she’s probably really ashamed of. You don’t want to inadvertently cause her to repress those emotions even more.”

He digested that. He would try. He wasn’t sure that he’d be able to completely follow through. Especially when it came to what she’d said that morning - he still needed to address that whether Jade thought it was a good idea or not. But in the future… he’d do his best.

“Bellamy - the other thing that I want to talk to you about is making sure that _you_ take some time for self care as well. And I don’t just mean continuing to see your therapist once a week. I know how all-consuming dealing with an issue like this can be. Just remember that if you let your own health fall by the wayside - whether that’s physical or mental - you won’t be helping anyone else either. Clarke isn’t the only one who needs to take breaks.”

That was going to be hard for him. Ever since their imprisonment, when he’d spent over a month feeling completely powerless, he’d always needed to have something to do. He had almost a compulsion to feel like he was actively helping. If he wasn’t at work, then he needed to be taking care of Serena and Clarke. And even if for some reason he wasn’t absorbed in being there for his family, there was always more to be done around the house.

But Jade had a point. Like so many other things they’d talked about that evening, he would try.

Bellamy felt himself deflate a bit under the weight of everything they’d discussed. His mind felt filled to the brim, with no room for any other revelations or soul searching for the time being. He looked up at Jade expectantly, waiting for her to drop her next bombshell and completely bury him - but instead there was sympathy softening her features. 

“I know that was a lot,” she soothed. “I’m not going to push you anymore tonight Bellamy - especially not when we still have tomorrow to finish things up. Right now, I want you to take some time to digest everything we’ve talked about. And you still need to write Clarke a letter.” She shifted once again, eyeing her watch. “I don’t anticipate my session with her to take much more than an hour. Will that be enough time for you?”

He weighed that for a few minutes before nodding. He’d just need to push himself to stay focused. In the long run, it was probably better - the time restriction preventing him from allowing himself to get trapped in his head. 

“Great.” Jade smiled encouragingly. “Any idea where I might be able to find you later so I can make the hand off?”

Again he had to stop and think. But as soon as he allowed himself to push past the heavy fog weighing down his mind, the answer was obvious. “Is the back deck alright?”

“It’s perfect,” she agreed easily, standing up to shake his hand. “I’ll see you around 9.”

Bellamy didn’t waste any time, heading to the reception area to grab his jacket and the stationary that had been laid out for him. The second he stepped outside, he took a deep breath, feeling the fresh air start to ease his tension as it filled his lungs. 

It had long since gone dark, but there was just enough light between the muted glow from the windows, the shining half moon, and the glittering blanket of stars dancing across the clear sky overhead to give him what he needed. 

Once again he was relying on the tranquility around him to remind him of the strength of the connection that he had with his wife. He allowed himself to float back through his memories: cuddling together in the back of Lincoln’s pickup; Clarke curling up half asleep between his knees while they sat around a blazing fire; standing knee deep in the surf staring out at the horizon, wrapped up in one another's arms. They’d spent so many memorable nights together under the vast peaceful gaze of the cosmos.

If he closed his eyes he could almost feel the warmth of her body seeping into his side as he listened to the wind whisper through the trees. 

He sat down on the edge of the bottom step and got to work. 

***

Clarke sat at one of the small dining room tables, her head buried in her folded arms. Her stomach was upset, and she just wanted the day to be over. Unfortunately, they weren’t done with the day’s ‘exercises’ yet.

Everything she’d discussed with Jade had felt like a test - like she had to somehow prove herself, convincing the woman that she could be trusted to be around her daughter. It was exhausting. It was nerve wracking. At times she’d wanted to excuse herself so she could go throw up. But somehow she’d managed to push through it.

Now she was waiting for the therapist to come back with Bellamy’s letter. For Bellamy to read the letter that _she’d_ written. And that was just… intimidating in a way that she couldn’t explain. 

After Bellamy had left the table, she’d found a small desk in the building’s library and tried - she really had. But the whole time she’d been writing she’d been overrun by the oppressive feeling that nothing she could say to him would ever be enough.

How do you adequately thank someone for being the reason that you’re still alive? And it wasn’t just for the times that he’d literally been the only thing standing between her and death. On the hardest days, he gave her a reason to exist - a reason to keep pushing. He’d always been her rock and her shelter and she felt like she just couldn’t find the words to properly express her thanks. Nothing she wrote would ever be sufficient.

So after rambling for a while, she shifted the focus of her letter to proving her commitment to make changes. Early that morning, she’d made appointments with her psychiatrist and her therapist. She’d also looked into support groups for new moms in the area. She still had no confidence that any of it would help, but there was so much that she had to atone for. And anything that she could do to convince Bellamy that she was trying… She had to make the effort. She couldn't stand by and allow him to be crushed by the darkness consuming her ever again.

The door at the back of the building creaked open and Jade stepped through, stomping her feet against the chill. She sent Clarke a warm smile then came to her side, laying a couple of neatly folded sheets of paper on the table in front of her.

Clarke picked up the note automatically, then froze. Her eyes flickered up to the other woman. Jade was still grinning. “I always say, give things at least a solid 15 minutes to digest before you go looking for your partner. But after that, you guys are free for the rest of the evening. Have a good night Clarke.”

She’d zoned out partway through the other woman’s words. Her eyes were drawn down to the message she held. She didn’t have room to think about anything else. 

The letter seemed to almost singe her fingertips and yet she couldn’t bring herself to open it. She was too afraid of what it might hold. She couldn’t imagine having an absolute breakdown in the middle of the dining room even if it was essentially empty. Her hands shook just thinking about the possibility.

Jade had disappeared, likely having gone back to her office. She didn’t see anyone else around. After a sharp exhale, she stood up and skirted her way back up the stairs and into their room. Once she was there, she pressed her back to the door and just breathed. She was still worrying the edge of the letter between her fingers. She didn’t know why she was so scared. Bellamy had never intentionally hurt her and after the way that he’d been so damn careful around her all day, it didn’t seem like he was suddenly about to start.

But maybe it was more the subtext that she was afraid of. How many times can you break someone’s heart before you reach their breaking point? How long can someone put up with that kind of life before they can no longer push down the resentment and it starts to pervade everything else?

She took a few dejected steps before sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed. Maybe she was being ridiculous. Bellamy would probably tell her that she was. The pages rustled against each other in her hand. She brought them into her lap and slowly flipped them open.

Bellamy’s crisp handwriting stared back at her, neatly filling the pages. It had always amused her that his penmanship was almost beautiful in a way that no one who had left to join the Navy at 18’s had any business being. Perhaps he had been meant to be a writer in another life. She traced a fingertip along a few of the markings, admiring the loop and slope of the lines, before realizing she was once again trying to distract herself from what actually needed to be done.

Nipping at the inside of her lip, she took a deep breath, then dove in.

> _Clarke,_
> 
> _There’s so much that I want to say and yet I’m having trouble putting it into words. And maybe that’s always been a part of the problem - I don’t say what I should. But there are things that you need to hear._
> 
> _You’ve called yourself broken, not just today but so many times in the years that I’ve known you. And I need you to know - that’s not true. It’s never been __true. You’re so bloody strong. You’re resilient. Even in hell, when most people would have given up - when_ _I_ _had all but given up - you were still fierce, still determined. That hasn’t changed. Over the last year and a half, life has thrown challenge after challenge at us and yet you’re still fighting. You’re still here._
> 
> _You don’t see yourself - at least not without the distortion that depression has twisted your perception into. So let me tell you what I see instead:_
> 
> _I see a woman so gorgeous that my heart still skips a beat every time you walk into the room. I see my best friend - the only person in the world who knows me well enough to save me from myself… and the only person who I trust enough to truly let in. I see an amazing mother, willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of her child. And yes, I see someone who is struggling. But she’s a warrior who has fought so many impossible battles and come out the other side that I have no question that she’ll conquer this too._
> 
> _I’ve said that Serenity means everything to me, but there’s so much more to it than that. As she grows and becomes this beautiful little girl, I have to acknowledge that everything that I love most about her is because it reminds me of you. The way that her eyes sparkle when she laughs. Her perseverance when she’s determined to try something new. Even when she’s being stubborn - it’s a reflection of your personality and I can’t help but wonder - will she inherit your sense of humor? Will she become this beacon of hope, able to steer those around her back to the light? I hope so. The gifts that you’ve given me just by virtue of being a part of my life are immeasurable. If our daughter can be the same refuge for someone else that you’ve been for me, I think that that might just be the most beautiful legacy that we could ask for._
> 
> _You’re still my sanctuary. You’re still the only person that I want by my side through both the good and the bad. I can’t imagine my life without you. You own a part of my heart Clarke. And in return you’ve given me so much - more than I could ever properly thank you for. But that isn’t an excuse. From now on I’m going to make a conscious effort to show you my gratitude, to make sure you know that you’re appreciated every single day. And to keep reminding you that you’re_ _worthy_ _every day too. Being with you has never been a burden. It’s been a highlight, a lifeline. Falling asleep with you in my arms is honestly my favorite feeling in the world._
> 
> _I’m always yours Clarke._
> 
> _Your partner, your friend, your confidant, your soulmate._
> 
> _Absolutely nothing is ever going to change that._
> 
> _Bell_

She read it through several times. With each sweep of her eyes the words seemed to blur a little more. Finally the tears gathering along her eyelashes were too much and she looked up, trying to blink them back.

He was standing in the doorway.

She had no idea how long he’d been there, but he looked nervous - his hands shoved deeply into his pockets and his shoulders hiked up with tension.

Before she even knew what she was doing, the letter had fluttered from her fingers and she was crossing the room. In a blink she’d pressed herself tightly into his chest, her hands fisting in the fabric of his henly.

An instant later his arms were wrapped around her, one large hand pressed securely between her shoulder blades while the other threaded into her hair, his fingers massaging into her scalp. She could feel every expansion of his ribcage, cocooned in his embrace. It had always been the safest place she’d ever been. She couldn’t help but burrow closer.

Something wet landed on the exposed skin at the curve of her shoulder, rolling down towards her collarbone. Pulling back slightly, she took in the silent streams tracing their way along his freckled cheeks and her heart clenched painfully. “I’m sor-”

He’d gently placed his index finger against her lips, stopping the words from coming out. “ _I love you_.”

For a moment she could scarcely breathe. Then she pushed to her toes, nudging her nose against his before she leaned forward the rest of the way and locked their lips together. Bellamy gasped quietly, his grip on her tightening possessively.

What started off slow and gentle quickly turned desperate, her hands weaving their way up into his hair. Every time he exhaled, the air pushed on to fill her lungs, almost as if he were breathing for her. 

He would _always_ breathe for her, especially on the days when she felt like she couldn’t do it herself. She vowed never to lose sight of that again.

That night they made love for the first time in months - but it wasn’t about the physical release. It was about the emotional reconnection. She felt every single beat of his heart against her chest, felt every one of his sighs as if it had come from her own lips. There was nothing separating them - no resentment, or fear, or unspoken words. They were a part of each other, the way they were meant to be.

They ended up folded into one another, the sheets tangled around their legs, Bellamy’s warm body wrapped around her back. She was playing with their hands, admiring the way his larger palms seemed to perfectly encase her smaller fingers like expertly contoured puzzle pieces.

He nibbled behind her ear, his nosed tickling through the shorter hairs at the back of her neck.

“Don’t let me go,” she whispered to him softly, feeling her heart hitch in her throat.

His voice rumbled deep in his chest as his arms flexed unconsciously, pulling her closer. “I never could.”

***

The next morning when they showed up to Jade’s office with Bellamy’s arm casually draped around Clarke’s waist, the therapist’s expression instantly brightened. “I’m assuming that last night went well?” She asked them with a hint of a smirk.

Clarke blushed, biting into her bottom lip. But she just leaned her cheek against his shoulder instead of truly trying to hide.

Bellamy pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You could say that.”

They spent the morning creating goals. Some of them were arbitrary, like having dinners with Kane and his sister’s family more often. Others were a lot more focused - Clarke vowing to finally send in her final project for her masters degree that had been lost in the shuffle of having a baby and Bellamy promising to look into taking shorter shifts at least once a week.

The afternoon was meant to be about reflecting - taking stock of their relationship as a whole, as well as the progress they’d made over the last few days. Bellamy had to admit that by that point he was distracted. It had certainly been the longest they’d ever been away from Serenity and he was eager to get home.

Jade appeared to sense that, though she didn’t berate him in any way. On the contrary, she seemed to be doing her best to get through things as efficiently as possible, knowing that they still had a long drive ahead of them.

When all was said and done she asked if they’d be willing to continue counseling, heavily implying that at least doing some over the phone appointments in the future would be highly beneficial to them. Bellamy couldn’t agree more. Even though her lips were pursed and her forehead was creased, Clarke seemed to agree as well.

He’d be lying if he said that didn’t make him feel lighter.

Clarke left to go upstairs and start packing their things, but Bellamy hung back, still perched on the edge of the sofa.

Jade gave him a long, appraising look. He just waited, trying not to let his impatience show. 

“Do you promise that if there’s even the slightest sign that Clarke might be struggling again, you’ll do what needs to be done?”

“Of course I do,” his answer was quick and firm. It wasn’t even really a question.

She gave a short nod. “I’m serious about checking in with the two of you. But for the moment I don’t see the need to report anything.”

He could have collapsed into a pile of bones on the floor if his skin hadn’t been holding him together.

Jade stood up and stepped around her desk to shake his hand. He quickly rose to meet her, but bypassed her outstretched arm to pull her into a tight hug instead. “Thank you,” he whispered gruffly. “For everything.”

She pulled back, giving his bicep a light squeeze, her face set in a warm smile. “It was my pleasure. Now go find your wife and get back to that little baby of yours.”

He felt his face break into a wide grin. There was an extra bounce in his step all the way until they were seated in Kane’s SUV.

Before he started the engine, Clarke turned to him. “I’m actually glad that we did this,” she admitted, her teeth pulling at one side of her lip.

“So am I Princess,” he assured her. “More than you’ll ever know.”

The drive home was certainly more relaxed. They were quiet, just watching the scenery fly by, listening to the calming beat of the classic rock station that was pouring from the speakers.

Closer to the city limits, Clarke’s fingers started to play with the dial and he couldn’t help his sigh of relief. It just felt so normal. Reaching across the console, he ran his hand down the length of her thigh, before squeezing her knee. “What’s on your mind?”

Her hand stilled. She gave him a sheepish look, sinking a little further back in her chair. “I’m scared,” she mumbled quietly enough that she was probably hoping he wouldn’t hear.

He let that absorb for a moment. “Care to elaborate?

She let her hand drop to her lap, resting her other elbow on the windowsill and pressing her forehead against her palm. “I just feel like… you’re so optimistic about the progress that we’ve made. And we _have_ \- made progress that is. It’s just-“ she cut off, squeezing her eyes closed. 

He chanced a longer glance over at her, tightening his grip on her leg.

Her eyes flashed back open, their sapphire depths piercing. “What happens when we get home and it’s not any easier? I don’t think I can handle seeing the disappointment on your face when there’s not some magical moment when we walk through the front door - When I’m holding Serenity and I still feel overwhelmed and inadequate.” 

“I don’t have any expectations Clarke,” he informed her calmly. His head swiveled slowly from side to side. “All that I care about is that we continue to face this _together_. No more shutting each other out. If you’re feeling that way, you talk to me about it.” His lips twitched. “And you’re already doing a better job of that. Just make sure that you keep holding me accountable too okay?”

She wavered for a moment before nodding. Nudging his hand free, she laced her fingers through his instead, then curled onto her side facing him, bringing her knees toward her chest.

When he glanced over a few minutes later, her eyes were closed. He was fairly certain she wasn’t actually sleeping, but he reached over with his free hand to turn the radio down, juggling the steering wheel with his knees, just in case.

As they got closer to the house, he could feel his own anticipation starting to build. He couldn’t wait to be back with Serenity. It had only been 3 days and yet he felt like he’d missed so much. Realistically she was still relatively tiny, even for her adjusted age. And yet he felt like every time he blinked, by the time his eyes reopened she’d already grown. He felt like he couldn’t bear to be away from her for another second.

He could almost see the house through the trees, and that thought caused his heart rate to tick up. He tried to push the excitement down just a little, keeping it tucked within his chest instead of broadcasting it too openly. Overwhelming Clarke the moment they were finally home wasn’t the way he wanted things to go.

Pulling up at the end of the driveway, his eyes immediately latched onto his car. Kane was already there.

He couldn’t stifle his grin.

When the vehicle turned off, Clarke finally stirred. Once she realized they’d arrived, her grip tensed slightly, before slowly releasing.

“I love you,” he reminded her once again, making sure she felt reassured.

Clarke leaned over to him, pressing her lips warmly against his cheek. “Love you too.”

She took a final deep breath then climbed out of the vehicle.

Bellamy stayed close to her side for the entirety of the short walk to the door. The second they stepped inside, Beau was all over them, prancing excitedly and licking their hands as they shed their jackets and boots. Bellamy shook his head with a laugh then looked up into the front room.

“O?” He blinked.

His raven-haired sister was standing in front of the fireplace, Serenity in her arms. “Hey Big Brother,” she greeted, coming forward and automatically handing the infant off to Clarke.

“What are you doing here?” He didn’t mean to be rude, but it wasn’t exactly an ideal time to have company. Especially if she’d come with her whole family.

His confusion must have shown on his face because Octavia immediately launched into an explanation. “Kane and Serena came over to stay with us yesterday. I figured I would tag along for the evening - I feel like I haven’t spent time with the two of you in ages. Lincoln’s at home with the kids.”

He raised an eyebrow still not really sure what to make of things.

Clarke swaying slightly at his side distracted him. Her attention was solely on the little brunette she was holding, her husband’s conversation going unnoticed. She brought up a hand, smoothing down her daughter’s hair before cradling the back of her head.

Bellamy felt himself instantly relax. His family was back together. Suddenly it was like he could finally take a full breath.

His sister moved in closer. “Someone has a surprise for you,” she pronounced happily, her focus also turning to his daughter.

Octavia tickled the infant’s side gently, causing Serena to let out a high pitched squeal. A glimmer of pearly white was revealed along her bottom gums.

Bellamy felt his face light up. “Look at that smile,” he cooed, pinching the little girl’s chubby cheek. She giggled happily, flapping her arms in excitement.

Bellamy’s eyes flickered up automatically, to take in Clarke’s expression. It was muted, but the corners of her mouth were tugging upward slightly. Another fraction of the tension in his shoulders released.

“So, I’ve been talking with Lincoln, and since he’ll be going back to work next week, we were hoping that maybe you and Serena would be willing to come over on the days when the guys are on shift. 2 adults split between 3 kids sounds a hell of a lot less daunting than trying to chase after Marie while caring for a newborn all by myself.”

Bellamy felt one of his eyebrows rise. His sister wasn’t being anywhere near as subtle as she thought she was.

O shifted her feet nervously. “What do you think?”

Clarke finally acknowledged her presence, glancing up at her best friend. Her chest expanded as she took a deep breath then let it out through her nose. His hand went to the small of her back, resting there comfortingly. Her eyes flickered up to his before training back on Octavia. “Umm… I’m not sure about every shift, but yeah - that would probably be helpful for both of us,” she muttered.

Octavia beamed, her grin stretching her features. “Oh, and I’ve been meaning to mention - Madi lucked out and has 4 day weekends all of next semester. She’s planning on coming home a lot and since she wants to work with kids she’s trying to get more childcare experience. She’d probably take Serena for a whole day a week if you’d let her. It’d give you and Bellamy a break.”

Clarke’s eyes had tightened. Bellamy bristled. He knew his sister was just trying to help but she was being overly pushy. “O-” The warning was clear in his voice.

Octavia’s focus shifted to him, but she didn’t back down. “I was just putting it out there.”

Clarke rolled her shoulders before handing Serenity off to him. “It’s fine. I… I’ll think about it.”

He bounced Serena on his hip while still examining his wife. She managed a small half smile.

Octavia latched onto her elbow and started to drag her toward the back door. “Great. Now let’s go Griffin. I have about a thousand things I want to talk to you about.”

Bellamy took half a step after them, but Clarke looked at him over her shoulder, shaking her head and mouthing to him that she’d be okay.

Beau tilted his head giving him a quizzical look and Bellamy nodded. The labradoodle obediently trotted after the two women.

Exhaling, he ran his free hand through his hair. Serenity babbled quietly and he melted, unable to stop himself from grinning back at her. Adjusting his grip he tossed her up a little bit, catching her under the arms and bringing her close to nuzzle his nose against hers. “I missed you Little One,” He whispered to her softly.

She giggled again, latching onto his lip with her tiny fist and tugging lightly.

A muffled curse rang out from the next room.

Bellamy made a face at his daughter. “What has your grandpa gotten into now, huh?” He asked her conspiratorially. She just gurgled, a little bubble of drool dotting her lip. He smirked, bringing her to rest against his shoulder as he made his way into the kitchen.

Pausing in the entranceway, he took a moment to savor the image of a very frazzled looking Kane, busying himself around the oven - an apron haphazardly tied over his clothes and a dish towel thrown over his shoulder.

“You always were a lousy cook,” Bellamy drawled.

Marcus jumped, before turning around with a soft smile. “It’s a good thing your little girl is still on applesauce and baby cereal - she didn’t have to suffer my ineptitude.” He came forward and took his granddaughter as if by instinct.

Bellamy skirted past him to examine what was going on on the stove. He managed to rescue the pasta from overboiling, then took out a spoon and tasted the sauce. Trying to hide his grimace at the overwhelming acidity, he pulled the brown sugar down from the cabinet and added a liberal spoonful.

“How did things go?” His foster father asked him gently.

He took his time, gaze intent on the simmering red liquid he was stirring. “It… helped. Actually, I think it helped a lot. But I know that it’s still too early to say.”

Kane nodded as he stepped over to his side. “I’m glad that you reached out.”

Examining the spice drawer, he started pulling out some herbs to doctor the bolognese. Talking to Kane was still hard for him, even though they’d mended their relationship years earlier. That was mostly due to pride. But it wasn’t lost on him that his mentor probably understood what he was going through better than most.

Though the General eventually ended up breaking off his engagement with Abby, they were still close friends. He’d been by Dr. Griffin’s side for years, through every hurdle and setback. He knew what it was like to watch the person that he loved fall apart over and over again, and feel powerless to stop it.

Kane leaned his hip against the counter, reaching up to grasp Bellamy’s shoulder firmly. “In the future, you don’t need to wait until you feel like you’re drowning to ask for help.”

The younger man turned his gaze, his eyes automatically locking on the back of Clarke’s head through the window. She was leaning against Octavia, watching the waves roll in, Beau sprawled out halfway in her lap. It made him nervous to see her so close to the water so soon, but he knew that was an irrational fear.

Swallowing thickly, he turned back to Marcus. “I think I’m finally starting to understand that.”

***

Two weeks later, he was ready to turn in for the night, when he heard scuffling coming from the back room. Rubbing at his eyes wearily, he poked his head into the studio.

Clarke looked up a little sheepishly from where she had been rummaging through a drawer full of paint.

He leaned his head against the door frame. “It’s late. Come up to bed.”

She nibbled at the inside of her lip for a moment then ducked her eyes. “I will. Just not yet.”

Straightening up, he walked over to her side and combed his fingers through her blonde waves, pulling them back behind her ear. “Treatment is more effective when you get enough sleep,” he reminded her, his voice soft but firm.

She reached up, lightly wrapping her fingers around his wrist. “I know. It’s just - I haven’t felt the inspiration to paint in months. I don’t want to waste this.”

He studied her for a long moment. He didn’t like it… but her eyes were clear and even held a hint of their old glow. With a sigh, he cupped the back of her neck, leaning in to place a lingering kiss on her forehead. “Listen to your body okay?”

Her lips curved up on one side. “I am.”

Reluctantly, he went upstairs alone, Beau following him while continuously shooting puzzled looks back toward the studio. 

He read for a while, trying to wait up for her. He couldn’t focus on the plot at all, but still he kept going. An hour later his eyes were straining and the words were blurring on the page, but Clarke still hadn’t come up. Eventually he ended up nodding off, his book falling onto his chest.

He didn’t wake until Serena did - at nearly 7 o’clock the next morning. It took him a moment to orient himself - his neck had a crick in it, and his bedside lamp was still glaring at him… illuminating the undisturbed sheets at his side. His stomach hardened, but he forced himself to take a deep breath, running a hand through his hair and rolling to his feet.

He picked Serenity up with a soft smile, but his mind was elsewhere as he got her changed then hitched her onto his hip. She snuggled right into the front of his t-shirt, still drowsy. The house was silent enough that he could hear the birds in the trees and the subtle roar of the waves crashing to shore.

Furrowing his brow, he went downstairs, instinct taking him directly back to the studio.

The fiery light of the sunrise illuminated the room, casting everything in a warm glow. His eyes were immediately drawn to Clarke, where she was sprawled out on the small couch against the far wall. She looked like she’d just passed out there, not having had enough energy to come all the way up to bed.

He shook his head a little bit, while Serenity babbled quietly in his ear. Humming to her softly, he turned around, his gaze catching on the easel that had remained empty for the better part of a year.

The piece that Clarke had been working on was still sitting on the antique wood. He knew he shouldn’t look - it was private and he should wait for her permission - but he just couldn’t help himself.

The painting wasn’t in her usual style. It was far more impressionistic - the brushstrokes clearly visible, giving it an almost dreamlike quality. It depicted the beach he could clearly see just beyond the windows, but on a different day - the heat of summer coming through in the warm oranges and tiny swirls of pink she’d used.

The sky was filled with towering clouds, but beams of sunlight were shining through, breaking up the gray and spreading their brilliance along the shore.

The peace after a storm.

His eyes trailed down, finding a trio of shadowed figures in one corner - the silhouettes of two adults and a child. The little girl was holding both of her parents’ hands, her long wavy hair fanning out in a gentle breeze.

Bellamy’s grip tightened unconsciously as he nuzzled his nose against the top of Serena’s head.

The air shifted behind them. Clarke’s hand ghosted across the small of his back as she leaned up and kissed her daughter on the apple of her chubby cheek. Next her gaze followed Bellamy’s and a light flush crept down from her hairline.

“It’s my hope,” she explained to him, her voice reverent. “It’s meant to be our future.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“The ghosts that we knew will flicker from view_  
>  _And we’ll live a long life”_  
>  _Ghosts That We Knew_ \- Mumford & Sons
> 
> There you have it folks. Another one in the books.
> 
> I just wanted to say a huge thank you for the nominations in the BFWA. You guys seriously make me smile.
> 
> I'm not sure when the next story in this series will be out. I have a few ideas, just not really sure where they're going yet. But as long as there's still interest I'll keep making them.
> 
> Thank you as always for being such amazing readers. Let me know what you think with your comments and kudos. I appreciate them so much 😊


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